a short walk (20180308)

everything is new
to the new dog
each smell a redolent benediction
from nature’s upraised hand
the rotting carcass
of a crow an equal
of a smoking thurible
each ecstatic stream of urine
a harmonic note
added a chorus of previous hymns

so much outside
franti sniffing
making up for this lack of knowledge
so much i wasn’t aware of
so much to be thankful for
the grass
the wind
the sun in my eyes
even the decayed leaves
even the mud
even the shit
thank you for outside
thank you for newness

Poem 20150212

on the walk the dog stops
more than he should
to tear up blades of grass
and try to chew them with teeth
he doesn’t have
you don’t know anything
about the water they use
–is it reclaimed?–
to water the grass
or if there are pesticides
or hallucinogenic mushroom spores
clinging to the underside
of the leaves

you tell him to stop
pulling the leash again
and again
for his own good
and the next time he pauses
instead of eating the grass
he rolls in it
instantly a puppy
instantly forgiven
with blades of grass hanging
from his mouth