Greg Scaff 


For Gomez

Insensible as cinderblock, the dog

Sprawled across the couch, dangling its nose to

The carpet like a snoring turnip.

Middlin' size, brown & black & white, part this,

Part that. The sleeping dog broke wind, farting

A liquid staccato long & loud as

A Tchaikovsky cannonade.

The dog growled, sniffing wild-eyed, dumbfounded;

It barked, it bayed, booming deep & persistently,

"Timmy is in the well,

Danger Will Robinson, danger!"

Comically oblivious, free of existence

"Solids" & "gases", "cause" & "effect",

"Sphincters" & "intestines", dogs can only

Bark when confronting gaseous anomalies,

Yet this, this same epistemological*

Deficit, this same knowing ignorance

In the face of daily & opaque

Trivialities, this is me. I am that dog,

Eternally lost in the two a.m. alleyway

Of daylight.