Dog Is God Spelled Backwards
Waiting for the dog to finish,
I think of dead friends,
their unsent e-mails, their caved-
in hearts
The shadows under the trees
are bearded Hasids in long black coats
swaying during evening prayers.
I go back inside. The news is on.
It’s all tumors and acronyms.
She’s studying the calendar magnet
on the fridge. What about April,
she says, if March is no good?
Table of Contents Previous Page Next Page
0 comments:
Post a Comment
Untitled Country Review welcomes comments. Comments are moderated... Thank you for visiting.