From yard to yard they call each other,
"I hear you!" They scratch the gate,
whimper and moan at the street lamp's artificial moon.
In the shadows they pace and scratch,
crazed by a wildness they don't understand,
leaping fences in their dreams, tails wagging
stiffly when they collide.
They want to chase the wolf
inside themselves down the street.
They want to grow their fangs and claws.
They want their legs to lengthen and their paws
to widen into the forest's loping gait.
The dogs are barking in the neighborhood tonight.
Slow down, you dogs! Slow down,
you wolves! I am lonely too!
[from Richard Broderick, Jesus of Walmart.]
|[Guy and a dog crossing the street in Saint Paul.]|