baby dog

baby dog buries her favorite bone
hidden treasure finds a home
baby stops and slaps her feet
the weather makes its full retreat
and outside all the whistles breath
through the leaves of falling trees
another hundred years of disease
will have them bowing before me

baby licks a master’s boot
gnaws at wood till it uproots
a picnic table has no food
the summer swelter pays its dues
and inside where the lonely child
writes his story unkempt and wild
dreaming of a holding hand
to make him king of him promised land

mother will you read my mind?
what I have to say so desperately
we all just couch ourselves sublime
imaginary friends we’re wrestling
and if I have the chance to ride
a pony before I grow up and learn to cry
mother will you make it mine?
’cause this mockingbird refuses to die

baby sits at master’s side
silent watching life breeze by
the cars scream the same tune everyday
baby sees them as a menagerie
morning bows to afternoon
the evening and the crescent moon
baby dog sniffs through dirt and stone
a thousand holes full of forgotten bones

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