Friday, January 23, 2015


Poodles Are Never Off-Topic

          We left, as we have left all of our lovers
          as all lovers leave all lovers
          much too soon to get the real loving done.
                                                               —Judy Grahn

“Last chance!” I write.  I explain.
But I can do neither.  Instead,
gritting my teeth, spitting out
expletives, through them, I begin
to weep.  “Applause!”  The neon
directive flickers to life a few yards
in front of me – a few moments
before it’s supposed to do so.
Am I really to taunt death this
soon?  “Forever is a long ways
away!”  The audience nervously
signal intermission.  “Gladly, I
think, gauze in hand, ready to
be mummified (or to mummify?).
By the end, everyone relates to the
disembowelment.  “Disembowlment
most relatable and statisfactory,”
the critics either praise or debunk.
I sink into prayer.  It is a soliloquy
most foul.  I had placed myself
intentionally within reach of
this predicament, this per-
spective, for years.  Was I
aiming deliberately for it?
I pray never to wish again.
The set, the entire universe,
disappears into a quick fog.