Imagine yourself
as a sacred object —
ravenous white dog,
pink tinged opening
to the Other.
Your open mouth.
Your stance above the plate
from which you feed, which is
the whole expanse.
You take all the offerings
as your due. Over time
you are used to absorbing
everything
and then suddenly
you are called on it.
No, you say, this is not
at all what I want, I want to
love the entire world. I want
to make it over and fill it
with my love. All these
offerings, so particular, so
personal, I never asked for
and I only take what
is given freely.
You keep feeding and
wondering why no one thinks
you’re telling the truth.
It is possible they’ve heard it before,
of course. It is possible
they’ve run up against a dog like you
before — you look friendly enough
until they take you away
from your feeding
and the flow stops
and then you turn
despite your protestations
and your professed love of all
and you bite. Admit it,
you bite. It’s what a starving dog
does no matter how much
it’s been fattened. When you’re threatened
you bite and when you’re hungry
you bite and when you’re
no longer on top
or feel you’re being challenged
you bite,
and the bitten step back.
They know you.
They know your bark and
your bite,
and they know which one
to believe.
