That is really depressing. Janice
From: frank sheldon Sent: Friday, November 19, 2010 1:39 PM To: [email protected] Subject: [TMIC] OT A poem from POETRY OT UNMEDIATED EXPERIENCE By Bob Hicok She does this thing. Our seventeen- year-old dog. Our mostly deaf dog. Our mostly dead dog, statistically speaking. When I crouch. When I put my mouth to her ear and shout her name. She walks away. Walks toward the nothing of speech. She even trots down the drive, ears up, as if my voice is coming home. It’s like watching a child believe in Christmas, right before you burn the tree down. Every time I do it, I think, this time she’ll turn to me. This time she’ll put voice to face. This time, I’ll be absolved of decay. Which is like being a child who believes in Christmas as the tree burns, as the drapes catch, as Santa lights a smoke with his blowtorch and asks, want one? -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Read more about this poem and poet on the Poetry Foundation website: http://bit.ly/cfZquc Sent from The Poetry Foundation Poetry app on iPhone. Download your copy from AppStore now! Sent from my iPad
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