Dog Whistlers
Tag Archives: Dogs
Under the Porch
PUPPY LOVE
Mary had a little lab
his coat was dirt and roll
and everywhere that Mary went
he wagged his smile behind her
CHILDREN HAVE
CHILDREN HAVE
Children have a great sense of smell
Maybe that’s why
their diapers make them cry
their first
breast sends them
on a lifelong quest
and a cinnamon bun
can stop us all in the mall
On a farm there’s hay
before it goes into the cow
and hay when it comes out
The pungency of pig, the foul of fowl
Rain before the first drop falls
and the whip of lightning after it cracks
Smoke on dad’s clothes from the prairie fire
snuff from the round box cutting his shirt
The dog, even wet, not diminished in love
If lost in a blizzard, or in the dark
it is always best to let go of the reins
so the horse’s nose can point you home
Lost in the world at four a.m.
twice blessed if yours can do the same
UNDER THE PORCH
UNDER THE PORCH
The thing about parents is they see you
as they’d like you to be, and you ain’t
The thing about teachers and coaches
is they see you getting all those A’s
and scoring on every play, and you cain’t
The thing about dogs is
Hey, quit lickin’ on my face you fool
FOR VICTOR
FOR VICTOR
The only trick an old dog can learn
is how to be an old dog
The minimum of turns one has to take
before lying down for that nap
That a bark is as good as a chase
for keeping squirrels off the deck
And that after all these years
of standing up for your standing friends
you’ve likely earned their kneeling by you now
COYOTE EYES
COYOTE EYES
It is Austin
so a poet is running for mayor
We stop by a back yard party
in our neighborhood to meet
greet and hopefully support her
It is Austin
so there is an eight piece band
The Bob Katz and they’re very good
A dog with coyote eyes
comes up and wants to be my friend
so I make up
a Coyote Eyes, Coyote Eyes song
and sing it to her while the band
lights up Johnny Cash’s Ring of Fire
and she looks up at me with those coyote eyes
and we are very much in love
but I am late for a poetry reading
at the English Café and have to leave
so she goes and sits by another man
She is looking up at him with those coyote eyes
I think she is trying to tell him
about the song
2 CATS, 2 DOGS AND A 5 YEAR OLD
2 CATS, 2 DOGS AND A 5 YEAR OLD
The orange cat has orange eyes
Orion lost two teeth
dogs bark at every care
but Alura scared off the bear
BLUE EYED BOY
BLUE EYED BOY
Blue eyed boy
blasts off from breakfast like a quail on a rail
Collie dog leaps on board
they sail out across the prairie
barely touching the tops of hills
Sun gives warmth or cloud gives shade
all depending on his whim
birds and rocks and swaying grass
everything living embraces him
Burrs don’t stick and thorns don’t prick
fences join in the play
happily turning their barbs away
Floating along on the wings of four
not long now till they’ll slam the door
THRESHING TIME
THRESHING TIME
I remember at Christmas getting a great threshing machine
a block of wood with wooden spools nailed to the side
but I loved it as I loved the threshing
All through the long summer days I would walk
the fields with my dog
At night my mother rubbed strong liniment on four year old
legs: growing pains she said, although one always hurt
more and didn’t seem to grow any faster
And the grain grew too, and passed me, and was higher
than I was. And then the harvest and the wonder of it falling
to the binder and the magic of the machine as it tied the
sheaves and ke-chunked them into the carrier
Then the stooking – little teepees covering the prairie again
and the golden warmth of everything
And the threshing machine; they wouldn’t let me too close;
it might eat me like it ate those sheaves and like the men
in the crew could eat, and they could eat
even when it rained
While I sat for hours nose to wet window
watching the great gray dinosaur
deep in the timeless mists
And hot clear windless days when everything sang and
the belt slapped and the machine came to life again
and wagons were on both sides
and the big horses were standing strong and ready
and switching flies with dignity
The sun caught the arch or the long plume of straw and
the chaff lifting and the old hands fed the machine in a
sort of easy sweat-oiled rhyme and the new hands stood
on the sheaves they tried to lift each time
And the old hands laughed, and the new hands laughed
and they were men together