JOHNMICHAEL SIMON POETRY

There he is again

eyes burning, tail

raggedy as ever

 

He comes around here

every so often

more dash than amble

 

Sniffing at Jupiter

and Saturn, their cold

orbs implacable, uncurious

 

Ignore his scampering

and then he’s

in our neighborhood

 

Bounding over asteroids

barking as Venus slides off

to the left, raising the hem

 

Of her skirt so as not

to get splashed by any

interplanetary debris

 

From his paws as he

digs and throws a shower

of stones and star sand

 

Over the place where he

deposits his you know what

once every four score years

 

And then he’s flashing across

the sky, expectantly waiting

for some astronomer to

 

Greet him, whistle, raise

an arm in recognition,

even for some miscreant

 

To pick up a stone

in warning – but nothing,

absolutely nothing – they’re gone

 

A world deserted, burning

he sees now, in red-embered

radioactive glow – and then he’s off

 

Barking away between the stars

pursuing his dogged route

thinking perhaps, as dogs sometimes do

 

Somehow he knew that might happen