dead drunk dublin and other imaginal spaces
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w e t   d o g s

b y   m i c h a e l   l o v a t t

No rest for the wicked
just salutary obligations
to over due observations
night time sports
with people of sorts
lunar park lunatics
and their likes

Wet dogs and
small pond frogs
leap and gasp
for air
to and fro
all the live long day
to no avail
of the coming death
do you see him?
the tiger
over there
at the glades edge
cunning, silent
claws of steel
to make a fine meal
of you and me.

Half devoured
half enamored
thinking about
the tough bits
even tigers can't swallow.



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