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Walking the Dog

Two universes mosey down the

Connected by love and a leash and nothing else.

Mostly I look at lamplight through the

While he mooches along with tail up and snout down,

Getting a secret knowledge through the

Almost entirely hidden from my sight.

We stand while he's enraptured by a

Till I can't stand our standing any

And haul him off; for our

Is patience balancing to this side

And that side drag; a pair of

Contented not to think each other's thoughts.

What else we have in common's what he taught,

Our interest in shit.

We know its every

From steaming fresh through stink to nature's

Of sluicing it downstreet dissolved in

Or drying it to dust that blows away.

We move along the street inspecting shit.

His sense of it is keener far than mine,

And only when he finds the place

He signifies by sniffing

And circles thrice about, and squats, and shits,

Whereon we both with dignity walk

And just to show who's master I write the poem.

Howard Nemerov was born on February 29th, 1920 in New York.

He died of cancer at his home in University City,

Missouri on July 5th 1991.

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Howard Nemerov

Howard Nemerov (February 29, 1920 – July 5, 1991) was an American poet. He was twice Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congre…

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