I saw you first at midnight miss, When the brawl had just begun, Your nasty growl and bark and hiss, My heart had then been won! That foolish pack across the street, Thought that they’d raid our dump, With zero idea who they’d meet, Got bitten in the rump! Your features in the moonlight shone, Your howl was loud and clear, And when the watchman threw a stone, Your snarl it made him fear! I’m black and shine with pedigree, Of pure-bred mère and sire, You mongrel of vague ancestry, You’re the one I desire! I see you scratch behind your ear, Hindleg in comely poise, You seize my heart, my dearest dear, And of all the other boys! Your mangy teeth, flea-bitten fur, The remnant of your tail, Make me at night, my pretty cur, In lovesickness to wail! The way you snarl and bite and tear, To guard your rubbish bin, What intruder would try to dare, The glorious mess you’re in! What human tune can match your song, When at the moon you bay! The way you dodge tho...
The message is supreme;
Born in the heart,
and lilting itself
from tongue to tongue,
throwing its scent
over wind and wave;
travelling on dots
or fingers
when blindness
or silence bar its way.
It hews itself into stone
or burns itself onto magnetic discs;
it is the message that lives
and I exist
solely to pass it on.