Good Dog
A new draft on power, dogs & men
Good Dog
The dog was A Good Dog
we agreed – coat caramel
and whipped cream. A Good Boy,
a very Good Boy, despite
the breadth of chest,
the weight of skull.
At rest, his soft pink nose
would twitch, or one eye
track the door. Then one might
consider the set of that
huge jaw, the muscle
dormant in the legs. Nights,
he’d take my slippers
to bed. I could think nothing
but Good Good Good
as you shrugged off
a layer, stood,
showing your back
and ran the tap, filled
your greenest glass
right to the brim and said
the problem with him
is his capacity, (he moved
one ear, you hushed
as if he was human
enough to hear)
he seems well-trained
but if he turns -
and then I noticed
all that sunlight, sudden
on your traps and lats,
the power in your shoulders,
forearms
slack then tensing, fist
at the neck of the vessel.
I swear I could’ve
numbered every tooth
inside your mouth.
if he can overpower you,
perhaps
you shouldn’t keep him
in the house.