Spine of a Dog
Spine of a dog curves away from me and against, as heat
of a tired dog warms my skin through my sweater, through his fur.
He lies, front paws matched, chin tucked alongside them, neat.
One still beast; one, antsy with pen at arm’s end, cramming
the months and years and lives with rehearsals, games, dinners—
human scrawl.
Mike Daisey’s The Agony and Ecstasy of Steve Jobs at Seattle Rep: Metaphor Shifts
“And we will hurt nobody for the love of money We can find our way without so much pain” — from “Exodus Honey”…