This is the dog.
This is the face of the dog.
This is the mask of the dog.
These are the soldiers.
These are the guns of the soldiers.
These guns glitter in sunlight.
These are the soldiers hats,
Littering ground like small totems.
Survivors record these changed times.
This is the dog snarling.
The teeth of its mask are bloodied
By friends I can no longer distinguish.
This is the dog I do not know,
This is its mask I hold.
Just wait until I try it on.
b/ Perspective's Elasticity
At shadowed foot of totem pole,
Lie the lost and the pale spirits;
Of Irishmen,of U.S Indians,
Of black men,of white trash,
While those hotwired cars rev- distance.
Calling our once liberty-land "earth's pariah"
Versus Europe's older and new order,
Or lands entrenched in ancient religions,
Is like a dog defecating its bed
And barking at the alien landscape.