The Millennial Pedestrian

On the Knowledge of Dogs
“A dog raced through a cathedral.” — Transit of Venus by Shirley Hazzard

And if you saw a dog
race through a cathedral
you’d know something dire had happened:
a car had killed someone
and not just anyone,
a family member, a close friend
or the government had just been overthrown
and blood was shed.

Once years ago in California
a friend’s Dalmatian ran around his house
all afternoon, barking madly.
“They do that right before an earthquake,”
said my friend, laughing.
That night the heaving coast
rocked his house off its foundation.

The ground groaned and the black sky
filled with swooning lights.
As they remade their bed
the sea nymphs’ singing rose
from the cold Pacific far below.
All the dogs in Malibu
howled at something
they already knew from dreams.

This entry was posted on Friday, December 30th, 2005.
It's part of the Old Poems category.
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