Hard Doggy

It has been whispered
that poets
seem to speak of the world
each word precious
with love
as if soon the world will be gone

It has been spoken
that poets
sing the body electric
by hypnosis
of love
marching to the beat of a drum

It has been written
that poetry
is an echo
asking a shadow upon the wall
to dance

But the work of a poet
is more

A poet seeks the fabric of the universe
sews the lawyer and rock within
throws him from the bridge

A poet undresses us with their words
diabolical in their pursuit of sin
and takes death as part of their wage

A poet keeps the world in balance
sometimes making love
sometimes taking her
hard doggy

The morning after
in the kitchen
she sings
and makes him a cup of coffee
he kisses her on the neck
warm
like a wolf
nuzzling in the safety of a den

Then
He takes out the trash