Susie DeFord, 11/16/2009

Current Occupation: Dogwalking CEO
Former Occupation: You name it, I’ve probably done it.
Contact Information: http://www.susiedeford.com/

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For Moe

Big Moe won’t give me a break. Boxer bulldozer strut,

pant, and rush ready for the fight. Rearing up,

anxious screech and cry at the sight of his own kind.

Excited err—how quick crush craze can fashion

fury. Berserk ballon ballet jete, the rise and fall of ocean

waves to my metronome click calm of counterfeit

courage correction. I have to choke him off, swinging

and spinning in his silver noose. We struggle

until his tongue hangs low to the ground, until his breath

quickens, slowing him down. Only in exhaustion

can we begin again. As if in a drown-swim, I must first

render him helpless before I can save him.

I can’t push pull him into the pack before he’s ready.

I try my luck with a little cotton ball Cassidy,

she’s scared but trusts me. He tries to bat at her head,

squash her down with his big paw pound.

But I make him sit, turn menace to manners for the first

time. Curious head turned he watches her walk

and smitten smacks into the trunk of a tree. I chuckle

and walk on, he prances proud—company.

How like him you are my dear, all teeth and talk,

all hard-shell hiding soft sun yellow yolk.