Blue Dog (PluS)

When I wrote Blue Dog

I was a man
walking wolves
howl the roam of wolf
lion's paw
wreath of wind & cars
in dirty winter
a breath in the sky



something a dialect I was imitating raging for
tagged by words
a young body in ancient rage
waiting for you
but you never came



except for that walk over the mouth
a surrealistic pillow for your love talk



my body and yours
were lovers
for a time





A man out for a saunter with his dog
A saint or two standing for the rain


Is this a perception of past
or future where
dares carry freight

timing the weight of its

song