So long, and thanks for leaving your backyard gate ajar

This Rottie’s tongue is

jutting between its

fangs, like a cold cut

soaked in

slobber,

in a chilling

maw of

stalactites—

its pointy teeth

long-chiselled by

DNA.

I take solace

amid its growls, that my

Cloudrunners

are broken in,

raised at the heel

and ready, as if poised

in a starting block—

awaiting the

shotgun’s

crack,

a bark like a

bullet to the sky.

Andreas Gripp

September 3, 2024

RF Image