Black dog with white paws on a red pillow.
Feathered tendrils of a dream, erasing,
as grey dawn, fanned by rain, laps the windows.
Stumble toward electronics to confirm the world
is still alive: no visible proof. Cruelty, exploitation
and degradation are winning the day’s big races.
There’s a spike in hair products and sun glasses.
World leaders are up in arms about arms.
The living have taken the dead to extra innings.
Somewhere a comet is passing a rocket.
Noise and light do the wave, eternally.
Satisfied with uncontrollable events,
the dog sighs and dives into that pillow once again.