i'll never be a poet

dog

today you birthed something new.
today you laid little dragon eggs
scales and fissures
slicing through unpolished black
gleaming yellow yolk cracks
squeaking mama mama
wait till you see me hatch
one by one
they descended from high
tumbling through that fiery portal
sun blessing their raw, plump decadence
and when they kissed the grass
feather's touch from unborn baby wings
these obsidian stones split open
bursting into a dry powder
any evidence of mythic embryonic remains
scattered like pixie dust on the ground
its golden glow vanishing
on the triangle of midday grass
boxed within city concrete
i squinted and looked and searched
and blinked and scowled and looked again
and i asked you
if you had drunk enough
but you had already stood up
plodded on
and lead the way back home.

- my dog's really unusually dry poop