black dogs who die walking into the sun.

stick on my fur like a car horn &
tumble down the rabbit hole of headlight--
what better date to die?

when i was seven my mother hit a black
dog coming home from work on halloween
night & still no one else believes in ghosts--

the restless body of a shadow--
four-leg hungry sun-- maybe she tried to
eat the sun in the face of the car--

no, i know you won't believe me
but you will when you face a pair of headlights
hungry & burning to run--

it is only a matter of time before 
we'll all be that black dog--
our body has been saving up our shadows--

to wake up in the two-tone stupor
of the kind of autumn that sulks
of august-- tongue lapping star milk--

no you can't drink your fur 
the color of squozen star-- you
have a contract to deliver a martyr

comeday you'll tell me the legend of 
walking headfirst into a the sun
to bleach out your own shadows--

you'll say it doesn't hurt to
be swallowed by light-- 
i'll believe you but not enough 

to eat a star-- i'll save
the headlight crucifixion for
a day when i'm more desperate

to wallow in the ache of bone--
for now i've broken myself well enough
toss the bones down a rabbit hole

yes-- where were you on halloween?
did you watch the black dog
howl itself into a sun?