over ‘n over the shiny plate spinning
randomly spitting out the people inside
the head of the man in the van with
the dog and guitar
title to this one: holy undercrossing
title to that one: smear soul
the words are lonely because
the man is lonely and for the world
it all comes down to dogs
lage ‘n dixie at the dance
before the debriefing on the
minor and major crimes of one mckinnnon say:
oh yeah and there’s this guy
(lage gets the thrill of the highlight video
concerning his finest escapes, for which he
is known across the universe, and dixie
gets the most philosophical award to be fair)
swiftly the winter storm river rages
woodsmoke faces beaming down on the last moments
of one old mckinnon who is the last madman alive
the jack slips and cuts the curse
waking up in a faux featherbed to the grinning
face of poetic nemesis who says it like this:
we all live in a golden bowl of pure love
what the hell are you doing here
bounding up and out to greet the afterglow
one does not escape the demanding dogs
happy scribes of the unseen acts
for whom you now throw things forever
some say it is in the chocolate chips
others hold their grovelling high
but the tower clouds tell you for the world
it all comes down to dogs