sled dogs in march

i wanted to be rushed through spring.
put my skull on a sled 
through the last vibrant snows.
i am joined in a field 
of dogs. each of them know
only one command, "stay."
so i say it over & over & over.
stay stay stay stay stay.
this is how i make a promise 
to continue to pick blades of grass.
the river births new batches
of gnats to toil in their circuses.
a neighbor lays out 
fake grass over a patch of dirt
as he smokes a cigar. we all 
are making sense of our shoulders.
i could tell you they pulled me
till the end of the year
but it would be a lie. we stopped
& laid looking up 
at a watermelon moon. i admitted
to knowing nothing about rest.
the dogs licked my face.
gave over a spare tooth to me
incase i wanted to make
a new face. i told them 
in the next few years i would love
to be a dog. i want to become
an instruction. stay stay stay.
waiting on the edge of a gust of wind
for a hand to unfurl.
instead for now 
my body runs like spilled leaves.
i am gathering 
& gathering as much of myself
as i can to walk 
on all fours into the sun's
bowl of oranges. here is 
the flowers' arrival. snow blinks
into rain. the dogs keep going.
the sled is a television by the end
of the season. the dogs 
are tossed knots of hurry--wanting.
i call "stay" 
& nothing stays. 

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