The Beast

by G.T.

May the eldest
dog repose in
the middle road.
Selfish-certain
that it must live
on to serve my
devices, I
chase after the
dying thing.

On white lines
it passed sides.
On black knees
I hold it.
back-forth-back-forth, crying
we belong
to the past
now.

May the eldest
dog repose in
the middle road.

This sufferable beast
with soft eyes that lull me
in motherly refrain.

Pleasured by all this
pain — I thought you would.

The corpse I am
shaking, stay alive for me!
The corpse I am
coddling, it will all be over soon.

May the eldest
dog reprose in
the middle road.