the wolf poem
my dog fetches with a need of a middle child
a peacemaker between what’s thrown and what my hands
once held the stick doesn’t need to be lethal, just long
enough to jaw all the dogs in the park, they’re going nuts!
I mis-type how is your wolf—
I meant, wife. I never know how to receive
both rain and sunlight in the same space in the final quarter
of a game, a “hell mary” pass is thrown—
it’s going up, coming down, it rainbows—the receiver’s down
at the bottom of the dogpile, they’re going nuts ‘cause
it’s not a stick, but a two-car garage & fancy appliances
that sit pliantly on an island with its own power source
the ref bobs up and down looking for a sign of possession
two kids or two dogs running, now screaming or laughing
in the park she looks like she doesn’t even notice me—
when I hear “wolf” I see teeth and a shredding,
someone is going to get eaten is it bad to want
a thing just because it’s somebody else’s?
on paper, I read “X” as mistake I read “X” as in please pretend
I’m not here even though you can see me
but on a map everyone knows that an “X”
is a go-to mark my dog drops the stick
at my feet we’re watching your hands
we wait for the next pass
*commentary from 2009 game san francisco versus minnesota - Favre to Lewis winning pass.
a peacemaker between what’s thrown and what my hands
once held the stick doesn’t need to be lethal, just long
enough to jaw all the dogs in the park, they’re going nuts!
I mis-type how is your wolf—
I meant, wife. I never know how to receive
both rain and sunlight in the same space in the final quarter
of a game, a “hell mary” pass is thrown—
it’s going up, coming down, it rainbows—the receiver’s down
at the bottom of the dogpile, they’re going nuts ‘cause
it’s not a stick, but a two-car garage & fancy appliances
that sit pliantly on an island with its own power source
the ref bobs up and down looking for a sign of possession
two kids or two dogs running, now screaming or laughing
in the park she looks like she doesn’t even notice me—
when I hear “wolf” I see teeth and a shredding,
someone is going to get eaten is it bad to want
a thing just because it’s somebody else’s?
on paper, I read “X” as mistake I read “X” as in please pretend
I’m not here even though you can see me
but on a map everyone knows that an “X”
is a go-to mark my dog drops the stick
at my feet we’re watching your hands
we wait for the next pass
*commentary from 2009 game san francisco versus minnesota - Favre to Lewis winning pass.
Shareen K. Murayama is a poet and educator. Her first chapbook, Hey Girl, Are You in the Experimental Group , by Harbor Editions, and her first collection of poems, Housebreak, by Bad Betty Press, will be published in 2022. She’s a 2021 Best Microfiction winner as well as a poetry reader for The Adroit Journal. You can find her on IG & Twitter @ambusypoeming.
Art: X Marks the Spot, Bill Smith. Flickr.
