Two in one day. This is a bit of a departure for me. See what you think.

BLACK DOG

A form of madness they call a black dog
is like most mad dogs, best left alone
to micturinate, froth horribly at the mouth
then go home. Kafka had it in abundance
and the dance still goes on, to infinity,
only the drugs call balance upon the frame.

Seems no sense to put a black dog in the frame,
in which case we could argue the clour of dog
was discrimination drawn out to infinity.
Mad dogs of any colour are best left alone
is the idea that persists, like despair, in abundance,
like the image of trance held frothing at the mouth.

This, as picture, explains the histancy to mouth
fathomless depths of anxiety in the frame.
The stolidness of despair exists in abundance;
formed formless in darkness. The shape of this dog
has no distinction or bark, just stand a lone
riddle without a clue to paint the face of infinity.

And who can encounter the face of infinity
as pounding paws lollop after a gaping mouth
to insist that they will always be alone?
Only a chance form wandering into frame
across a chilled land can stop the dog
that crowds solitary minds with abundance.

Still the call to life echoes in abundance,
and entrance, an invitation to infinity,
denies an acceptance to embrace the dog.
An overflow into the brink of a carniverous mouth
insists on infiltrating the tightened frame
quietly, to state no dark dog lives alone.

We enbter here, leave again alone,
create heaven and hell in abundance:
make our own unique picyure for the frame
and its short busy interval in infinity.
We all pass through a primitive cavern mouth
where some manage to miss the bite of the black dog.

The black dog, it worms of cognition, alone
allow time to mouth madness in abundance,
meet and expand infinity in their frame.

James Bell


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