shaggy dog poem

lame dog
he has three legs
& a smoker’s cough
but he don’t sweat it

lame dog
chases cockeyed pigeons
& sneezes at the sun
gnarly butt-wagged tail

lame dog
he don’t lick the hand
that give the medicine
‘cos he got self-respect

but lame dog
always shakes paw
even if it makes him
plop on his butt

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2023

GUEST POST // Interrupted by Kenneth P. Gurney

Paul threw a knife.
It bounded off an aspen tree.

The blade vibrated as if it thudded into the trunk
and the remaining energy wiggled off.

The vibration created an audible sound.
Similar to seventeen year cicadas.

Paul turned his back to the vibrating knife
feeling a sneeze coming on.

His sneeze thundered through the aspen grove.
It displaced the slender trees a few millimeters.

Surface bracken puffed up into the air.
Maybe an inch. Dust lingered at ankle height.

The sneeze rolled the knife over.
It ceased vibrating and played dead.

Paul kept his eyes closed after the sneeze
and stood up straight.

The sun shone directly on his face
and whispered Gesundheit.

by KENNET P. GURNEY
© All rights reserved 2021