Legion Press

beware of dogs

by Andrew S. Fuller

I will I shall grow a beard of jackals
which cannot be seen in the mirror
but jumps snaps rocks and
rattles a growl over black eyes between
teeth tall as trees
biting the noses of anyone
who steps too close and
barking all night at the light coming
under the door
not even echoing
in my dreams where I walk
an inch above the gravel
to hear all the whispers.

Running up and trotting down
the hill of my brain
snorting the dust from its
nostrils is a dingo
so blind it does not stop
to look out of the lens
of my pupil
but gets to the light
the hole
the narrow canal in time
to bark and bite at any whispering lips
leaned close.

Lastly born first
is the mute laughter
in my heart of my name
all spotted and skipping
in the dark with slighting grins
all promising to tear at you
when you're down
sleeping or not
under the lurk
of the lost hyena.



lonely bones, salamander breatha poem from the chapbook:
lonely bones, salamander breath
© 1996 Andrew S. Fuller

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