Category Archives: Fang & Claw

Backbeat

Backbeat

I have danced in public once in my life.
For my wedding.
Took a lesson.

But I secretly dance every day,
though I guess it’s no longer a secret.

For the dogs,
and the setting shadow
against the back wall.

All attempted rhythms
and contorted shapes,
but my Byrne is spot on.

They know:
if sound and fury
finds a backbeat,
it signifies everything.

And sometimes,
when the song ends
and the room cools again,

I stand still in the quiet.
One breath,
two,
and wait to see
if the house will dance back.

Most nights it doesn’t.
But some evenings,
the dogs catch it:
their paws thump the floor,
their tails swing in time,
and the room moves again,
alive in its own applause.

Proof of Moments

Vsevolozhsk Proof of Moments

there’s dirt in the air
and laughter far off
and the afternoon smells like bark and sweat

the earth softens
into teeth and breath
and the simple proof of moments

i think about poets
who wrote about gods
and realize they never met a face like yours

you don’t chase meaning
you walk right up to it

you remind me
that every good life
starts with curiosity

and pulses
through the dust
through the noise
through a world that still belongs
to anyone willing to notice it

Guard Duty

(photo by Nick Farrell)

Guard Duty

they bark like
they mean it.

not that fake bark
you get from
pampered purse mutts.

this is real.
chest-deep.
born from wolf blood.

someone rattles the gate
and they’re up
like hell just called
their name.

one inside,
one out,
trading thunder
through drywall
and windowpanes.

they don’t know
if it’s a leaf
or the apocalypse;
either way,
they are ready.

and goddamn
if that doesn’t
make me feel
like i matter.

like someone
is aware
that i am in this,
maybe worth protecting.

you can keep
your doorbells
and security cams.
i got a pair of alarms
that eat peanut butter
and sleep in a pile
when the threat
is gone.

and i like
their noise.
their warning.
their love
loud.