I wrote this piece about our sweet, stubborn grand dog a couple of years ago. Rest in peace sweet Toby. be nice to the cats in heaven.
mastering the art of traveling through time took less skill than anticipated.
even so, i lifted weights, jogged for hours,
and deeply meditated.
finally i prepared to leap into the fourth dimension
engaged the machine and catapulted in a westerly direction
behold, i left at 1 p.m. eastern and arrived at 12:30 p.m. central
thus proving for once that time travel is somewhat preferential.
of course on my return to feathered nest the hour I did give back
So naught was gained on this fair day; my methods sorely did lack.
a bed of nails
i entrust the safety
of my body’s unmarked skin
to the holy force of physics
and still, in the quietude
of darkest, velvet night
the troubled mind can
find no peace tucked
beneath a concrete
blanket of equal