Hark!—the humble
salient yip
of my copper-
colored dachshund-
beagle—
leaping to lick
and glaze the lengths
of the scrawny
rented space between us—kindling quick re-
capitulation
of that tawny old
metonymy of fealty—here
and there, you're
brazen, friend—now,
as then—
you're gold.
