If you didn’t see the six-legged dog, It doesn’t matter. We did, and he mostly lay in the corner. As for the extra legs,
One got used to them quickly And thought of other things. Like, what a cold, dark night To be out at the fair.
Then the keeper threw a stick And the dog went after it On four legs, the other two flapping behind, Which made one girl shriek with laughter.
She was drunk and so was the man Who kept kissing her neck. The dog got the stick and looked back at us. And that was the whole show.
Eyes Fastened With Pins
How much death works, No one knows what a long Day he puts in. The little Wife always alone Ironing death’s laundry. The beautiful daughters Setting death’s supper table. The neighbors playing Pinochle in the backyard Or just sitting on the steps Drinking beer. Death, Meanwhile, in a strange Part of town looking for Someone with a bad cough, But the address somehow wrong, Even death can’t figure it out Among all the locked doors… And the rain beginning to fall. Long windy night ahead. Death with not even a newspaper To cover his head, not even A dime to call the one pining away, Undressing slowly, sleepily, And stretching naked On death’s side of the bed.
