Friday, January 2, 2009

an old poem for a new world

an old man
stands in his front lawn
beating an old dog
tied to a tree.

he beats the dog
with today’s newspaper
slowly and steadily
without anger or pleasure.

the dog lies quiet
in the dust.
it is dead
except for the rhythmic
of its breath.

the old man
and the old dog
heave in unison
in time with the rise
and fall
of the newspaper.

both are sweating
and panting
under the same ancient sun.

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