Love In Kennel

There she is, on that terrace again


the dog-dream of her bones rests here, alone and leaning

On this old tin porch chair

She never ever looks at the dog

But, always turns her face away

when glanced at.

I wonder how she ever finds out.



Dog-dreams cross her everyday

Beneath tree shadows, amid the blaze of sun, on the purple leaves

Then her last bone of meat is done,

Then the terminal snow smears on the white carcass

Then she absolves, then she absorbs

Her one little heart, humming like a medieval bee.

Her polished nails scratching the redwood

Where ivy breathes her panting, while she races on

behind the big fat asthmatic sun.

beside her

morning of besides

Once seen,

Then sightless for many.

Sun like a mustard, on this infant autumn evening

Crystallized white by her white paws

Acquitting the autumn of its foetus

Carelessly so , teasing in grasslands

Teasing sticky,

Teasing ugly,

Teasing vibrant

Teasing charades with her high heeled bright black shoes.

Then, fisting the night in blobs

Scattering all over the world

that only sleeps

in that falsity of her uterus.