Poem In Progress: ‘DOG’

Here’s another new poem in progress.

Having done a bit of dog-sitting lately, I was scanning radio channels while driving home from a summer hockey league game the other night and stumbled upon some kind of discussion around the theories of how dogs experience their realities.





it’s been suggested our understandings of the

present, of what that means or is, differ; are two

buried sets: disparate treasure troves secreted

deep in our respective skulls’ bone-yards.          

our human timing all finite and contingent, and

yours simply elastic; almost unconcerned.         

think smell rather than sight: its self-same

bleeding both before and, yes, after. omen and

denouement all at once, if at once was a thing.

that rich allowance.          and this must explain

how you love, how you live, unconditional: that

near-constant licking, the thick fart, the near-

crocodiled yawn. that sigh that empties your

small, small frame and fills the room all at once.         

and this surely explains how i am left only with

memory’s specious, two-footed argument; with

words and their iambic trying, while you: you

are still doggedly swimming in the thick midst of

it all, unconsciously paddling through some kind

of unending wet-dream of now, and of now, and

of now:


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