Children
who dial Triple 0
Knock
that off
People must hear me
yelling
it
will be my bone soon
dogs walking
in the cul-de-sac
bristle at the lead
loose meat broadcast
not
cool the eyes
of the Chihuahua warn me
I steam back
just one
more racket
made
by cat feet
or
your dog rumpus
and
the fur
that
flies the
bones
arriving
out there
streetside by
the
walkers
won’t
be mine
It was unexpected when the bell rang
when the police came
I got to thinking
could it surely no it wasn't
no
Dear Kerri, I love this poem. A comment? If it's all (or almost all) interior, why the italics?
ReplyDeleteAhh, it is part of a series....next part today bt I will look back over it and take this advice....
ReplyDelete