Even Good Boys Get a Little Bloody Sometimes
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Fallen Deer by the Dam
The dog is eating the deer.He’s a good boy. He’s got a collar. He’s going to go home bell-troddenand lick his human’s arm with a gentle tongueor so we assume. The deer doesn’t have her belly. That’s as close as we can look at what happened.When we call by the screaming dam, the dog rises.We don’t know his name. We don’t know what makes him listen. We kiss air. We bark no.The light shows us sharper light—scarlet facedisappearing ballet bones. Her breathing
The dog is eating the deer.He’s a good boy. He’s got a collar. He’s going to go home bell-troddenand lick his human’s arm with a gentle tongueor so we assume. The deer doesn’t have her belly. That’s as close as we can look at what happened.When we call by the screaming dam, the dog rises.We don’t know his name. We don’t know what makes him listen. We kiss air. We bark no.The light shows us sharper light—scarlet facedisappearing ballet bones. Her breathing
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