Curly Black Bit of Doggerel

Curly Black Bit of Doggerel

Little dog, little dog
Curley Sue Malarkey
 
Wag, bite, run, chew, sleep
 
Little dog, little dog
I can hardly see your eyes
maul the cat, maul the cat
 
What do I know?
Stupid Human!

 

March 2023
Otowi, NM

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

'In the Eighties We did the Wop" by Major Jackson, and Mary Strong Jackson's poem in response.

In the Eighties We Did the Wop                                                         By Major Jackson If you end your crusades for the great race,   then I will end my reenactments of flying,  and if you lean down to smell a painted trillium,  then I will cast a closer eye on those amber waves,  then I will turn my drums to the sea and away from   your wounded mountains. Who mothered your love of death?  Here is a heart-shaped stone to rub when you feel fear rising;  give me anything, an empty can of Pabst, a plastic souvenir, a t-shirt from Daytona.   Here is a first edition: The Complete Poems of Lucille Clifton.   Give me an ancient grove and a conversation by a creek, charms   to salve my griefs, something that says you are human,  and I will give you the laughter ...
Read more

By other poets - Psychoanalysis: An Elegy, Jack Spicer 1925-1965

Psychoanalysis: An Elegy                                      Jack Spicer 1925-1965 What are you thinking about? I am thinking of an early summer. I am thinking of wet hills in the rain Pouring water.  Shedding it Down empty acres of oak and manzanita Down to the old green brush tangled in the sun, Greasewood, sage, and spring mustard. Or the hot wind coming down from Santa Ana Driving the hills crazy, A fast wind with a bit of dust in it Bruising everything and making the seed sweet. Or down in the city where the peach trees Are awkward as young horses, And there are kites caught on the wires Up above the street lamps, And the storm drains are all choked with dead branches.   What are you thinking? ...
Read more

3 Short Poems

Now and Then   I remember when I remembered better than I remember now but I now know that then I could not know what I know now ...       The color of my delusion   of the pandemonium without and for the peace within   has a hue of unearned comfort and quietude that belies security   a shade that hides the risk required to consummate a private bill of promises       Squirrely   I watch Red watching MoMo smelling squirrel gone up tree watching me   squirrel steals bird seeds clever brain cross breeds its needs tweet to germinate   small hands fumble nut unblinking eye holds me fast still life with twitches -Richard Krasin
Read more