Friday, June 19, 2015

chasing squirrels

I looked the other way and ended up on the ground,
abruptly, on my hands and knees,  a dog that was on my right
magically on my left, the leash dangling uselessly from her collar.
darn squirrel!
and she, this black dog, runs after every one,
barking and jumping at trees as if suddenly she could fly.
me, I'm on the ground with a skinned knee and scraped elbow
cursing squirrels.
I had never seen so many, dead and alive,
darting across sidewalks and streets, or stretched out
in the dry flattened corpse I now see on lawns and
behind bushes.
let them all be flattened and stored

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