JoelJosol Posted April 20, 2012 Share Posted April 20, 2012 The poem hangs like a dog, its entire length suspends from the edge, held by a lanyard on its neck. The readers are like passers-by, watching the immobile body hang quietly, until the dog wags itself and wails. But, the owner is not around, and the house is sealed; the entry is only by climbing to the front porch. No one feels it right to make the climb, and so they wait until its neck gets broken and leave. But, as fortune would have it, the writer pulls back the poem out of view of everyone else. Quote "Words are not things, and yet they are not non-things either." - Ann Lauterbach Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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