Th’ Dog Dreamers

Suddenly,

A mean-mouthed pack of dogs

Came out of stage left

Moving across America

In rapacious slow motion

Running funny, they said.

And how they appeared and disappeared

Didn’t help, either.

One was a stone, stoic.

The shadow-cloud dog-spectre

Clearly appeared to float,

Propelled forward

Ever so slowly—

Undulating but ever so slightly,

As blithely

As the rhythm of a sigh.

Th’ more nearer dog

Was transparent,

Just hovered

And cast no shadow whatsoever.

You could see the mountains

And the horizon right through him.

The third dog-thing

Wore zoot suit pants

And shades—tea-timers

To hide the white of his red eyes

It appeared

And spoke to the house

With the tile roof.

I turned and looked away—

My mouth agape

Wondering if I could even scream.

Source: Information: 20 Years of Joda (Chusma House Publications)