Now I have known the biting dog
teeth thrashing my leg’s mast
where veins plot a sanguine course
the brute’s black snout snaps
with a saw’s cutting edge
accompanying a barking malice.
Somewhere on the complex grounds,
somewhere near verdant lawns
summer heat warms before sprinklers
water neatly-trimmed grass,
a tenant’s watchdog lost leash
& attacked this strolling passer-by.
Infused with primal pain
I still feel the biting dog
in shallow dreams night conveys
a nature truer than my own,
unable to sleep yet always
it yearns like mad Lassie again
to spill the vein’s crimson flow
beyond my craft’s dark flounder.