|
To Thine Own Self Be Zoo Volume 1 Issue 1 -Issue 2- Issue 3 Issue 4 Issue 5 Issue 6 Issue 7 Issue 8 Issue 9 Issue 10 Issue 11 Issue 12 Issue α Volume 2 Issue 1 |
Volume 1, Issue 2 Scent Became Flesh Dorian Gray The Tale of Erskine Faern Sister Shim and the Priestess Om Poems | |
Poems38 Haiku About Dogs i Summer: sniffing grass Scent an unseen mystery Winter: footprints shown ii The smell of dog feet Beloved to more than pervs It is transcendent iii Awakening warm Happy, everything is good Face in doggy fur iv Between desk and chair Diligent companion's post Head asleep on foot v New pleasure one night Leaves much research to be done With furred assistant vi Curious intent A wagging tail is lifted To sniff a dog's butt vii Human lies awake Dog hops onto the bed too Together they snore viii Green sprouts up from dirt Esoteric dream from rest Boyfriend from dog food ix Dog squats on the grass Yesterday it was liquid Glad to pick up shit x Crossroads on a walk Dog insists on the long path Dog lover obeys xi Dog lies smug on back O ye of infinite chest A belly is rubbed xii hghagh, auauau, oghhh Interspecies sarcasm Teasing words of love xiii Calm night in July Suddenly exploding sky Dogs justly displeased xiv A visitor knocks Arrarrarrarrarrarrarr Welcoming tail wags xv Dog spits out carrots Empathy across species Vegan cooks him steak xvi Under large blankets Face buried in softest fur Snuggling dog butts xvii Do you want some food? Do you wanna mess around? At last, tail says yes xviii Picture book on Danes Repressed culture is revealed Not one cookie shown xix Cross-species threesome Film captures the friendship here Dog smells sadly gone xx Dog relieves himself Taste of yellow snow is learned A worthy snow cone xxi Circle circle pause Circle circle circle pause Poop spot will be found xxii A pizza is watched Six inch line of drool hangs Slobber looks tasty xxiii Small vanilla cone One soft taco, only meat Sharing human's fries xxiv Human mad at screen Dog asks human to drop it Dog is right; they walk xxv Human walks with dog Something in the dark woods stirs All freeze and listen xxvi Dead thing found on road Human sees it, but too late Dog wins this time: munch. xxvii Human flops around Inebriated kisses Dog's tongue is the world xxviii Dog is up early Grumpy human, needed, stirs Pre-dawn sky serene xxix Walking down the hall Dog puts nose to neighbor's door Sniff. Sniff. Sniff. Okay xxx Juice, coffee, toothpaste Sometimes dog kisses to kiss Other times, to taste xxxi Anticipation The tags are all taken off New toy for the dog xxxii Mud rinsed down the drain Dog leans into towel rubs Dry and happy friend xxxiii Big dog passes gas Non zoos roar about disgust Zoo at first confused xxxiv Stomach makes noises Salad of grass to puke out Upset will settle xxxv Lickjob in mirror All proportions stand naked Contrast hides in rhyme xxxvi Hand on the sheath rubs Hidden anatomy shown Beautiful secret xxxvii At last the birds sing The bright sun again does warm Long walks can return xxxviii Trotting and halting Dog teaches human patience Do not yank the leash
Twilight Forest There is, in the Land of Nod, a pleasant enough forest where it is eternally twilight. Warm, dim hues creep their fingers around the trees and across the grass. Come: let us go there, away from cars and concrete, away from the faintly screeching electrical pulses of motherboards and gadgets, away from screens, away from bright lights and obligations to keep up with things to the second, away from here, away from time, let us go away.
Out in the twilight forest, there is a presentness of being. You press your hand to the tall trunk of a tree, pushing your palm as hard or as soft as you like against the bark, and the tree does not move, it does not break. It is, and it will be, if you let it. Lying on your belly and pressing your face to the ground, the grass smells like grass. The dirt smells like dirt. You spot a weed and pull it up, root and all, out from among the grass and dirt. Holding the root to your face, soil pressing against your upper lip and your chin, you inhale, and the soil smells even more of soil this close up to it. Setting the weed down, you get up slowly onto your hands and knees, and then get up farther, and stand fully upright. Your breathing is not rushed here: You take deep, helpful breaths as slowly as you like to.
You take a step, and in the bones of your foot, your ankle, your knee, your thigh, you feel the endearing weight of your body against the weight of the rest of the planet pushing back, holding you up: steadiness beyond steadiness, it will never, ever drop you. As you walk, you wear a blanket over your shoulders like a cape. Whatever else you wear, or don't wear, is up to you. No one will mind here. As you walk, you walk in whatever shape of being you would like to. Maybe a dog, maybe a human, maybe an ant, maybe a rock, maybe a bush. Maybe something in between. You are what you like to be, male, or female, or some of both, or something of neither.
The air becomes pleasantly cooler as up ahead, there is a gently trickling stream which you are approaching. It is felt and heard a while before it is seen. When you arrive, it is as though arriving at the side of a tunnel. This tunnel is made of the gentle stream at foot, dim tree trunks to each side, and a meshwork blanket of branches and leaves overhead, through which you can see the sky. From where, and to what end, does this tunnel lead? You walk along on the bank of the gentle stream, seeking to know.
I Did Take Care Of Him After For The Record The other day we had the air conditioning on and so I missed when my dog grunted and huffed and rolled over asking for a belly rub but I did happen to turn around at some point and see a gremlin on the bed halfway between presenting his belly and lying down on his side again, his limbs bunched up but also splayed, his jowls shown, his eyes wild and staring directly at me me who had missed his belly rub demands in the noise.
In that moment still, he was beautiful. ζMost within To Thine Own Self Be Zoo written by Eggshell Ghosthearth. |