dreaming dogs

by Peter Marra

she walked past the chain-link fence:
into the courtyard
she walked quickly
then stopped to
crouch down and listen to the

dog’s secret message:
a secret bullet, that’s what
the frogs suggested

7 minutes later she lay
on her back on top of
wet moss and dead leaves
and gazed upwards.
underneath, the sidewalk heaved.

she forced the sky from
blue to grey to maroon.
a mutation.
strangled on the monkey bars
dancing in the perimeter

she smiled as she spoke to
the vaginal totems
embedded in the moon
a return to the playground

the thought for the day is:
“exhilaration can kill a biped”

she loosened her corset
allowing herself to breathe  as her
black tendrils merged
with the soil.

cremate her soul. she waits for the diorama
and the canine pleasures she can see within:
a feast of victims for

a quickening dance
with her voice’s fury