Terrier Bliss

this is how I feel about the book project
 * * *

I WANT it!
I can't stop looking at it.
I study its shape and odor and size
as though expecting it any moment to shift, change, vanish, explode.
If flung, I will go after and get it on the first bounce.
If hidden, I will sniff where last seen until it's revealed.
If held, I will continue to stare up, my whole face quivering,
my whole body poised to, to, to
I focus on how I will chew it,
how I will lick into its very essence
and the directories of its pieces,
the threads that tie it up to the rest of what is
keeping me away right now.
I will free the cloudy stuff inside it,
the piece of its core that makes the sounds.
I will fling the disassembled unity into the air
in a new broader unity — like the big bang —
and roll in all the stuff that flies around
artfully scattered, array all around
me, panting in utter joy that smells like triumph.

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