Barking bangs from the corners of the garage.
Drool pools in your lap. Face the size of the
horizon, scummed puddle eyes, muzzle and grey
gums. Black hide, burned at the elbows and chin
to pink. Your snot-smeared hands, struggling
with the rope. Paws scrabbling like falling pigeons.
The reek of his tongue; he has been eating something
dead from the trunk. Out-of-tune horns, cellos, from
the front lawn; he whines a pinkish nursery song.
His face is your horizon; eyes the size of scummed
pools, red muzzle and gums, teeth grease-smeared,
like your struggling hands. Drool puddles in your lap.