Thursday Incident, 4:30 PM

A big dog — huge dog,
in fact — is barking upstairs,
barking and scrambling
from window to window
as an angel and a devil
walk by outside, oblivious
to the dog, almost a wolf
howling, a demon itself
actually, screaming at the pair
walking by on a
Worcester street in a grey
afternoon, not caring at all,
not noticing in fact, ignoring
that animal, that demigod,
that beast almost retching
in its spasms — and then
it stops and almost as an
afterthought licks itself,
its paws, falls asleep in fact
upstairs from where I sit,
caring only a bit for it,
oblivious myself to it
in fact, in fact or fiction,
like a dream it appears
and I and the angel and devil
vanish until the next time
the apparitions come again
to dog, wolf herald, beast.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
onward,
T