My dog barks...then again.
Then crazy barking and again.
She barks with the pops, the bodies
rolling onto streets.
It drives my dog mad, those shots
repeating on TV,
the pop, pop, and pop,
it just doesn't stop.
A man voice warns, viewers
will feel unsettled and then
more pops and more short, sharp
mad dog cries.
The TV neutral in all its telling
of biology, of flesh bursting from
the bones above the dog's sharp
short mad cries.
And overhead crows swarm nonstop,
and dog barks, barks, and barks
and I climb up the olive tree,
to the very top and flap my arms
like small, white flags
to the enemy.
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