AN ODE TO THE THING

KATE DEBOLT

 
 

it wasn’t watching the dog’s head bloom
like a tigerlily
 
it was the tiny moment before :
dog prim on its paws
 
in the center of its kennel-manger
with all the other doomed dogs :
 
i thought of course
that’s not a dog & i hated you
 
because i was taken in :
some nights i sleep
 
on a bed of bloody fur
while one dog scrabbles
 
at the chain link :
howls throttle yips
           & then you
 
           ascendant
                    asmoke with dark joy
 
                    having learned how to talk
                             dog & kill dog & be dog too

 

 
 

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