March 14: Best Friend, David Baker, "Mongrel Heart"

Tonight, I have a poem for a friend who lost her best friend yesterday.

Saint Marty sends his love.

Mongrel Heart

by:  David Baker

Up the dog bounds to the window, baying
     like a basset his doleful, tearing sounds
          from the belly, as if mourning a dead king,

and now he's howling like a beagle--yips, brays,
     gagging growls--and scratching the sill paintless,
          that's how much he's missed you, the two of you,

both of you, mother and daughter, my wife
     and child.  All week he's curled at my feet,
          warming himself and me watching more TV,

or wandered the lonely rooms, my dog shadow,
     who like a poodle now hops, amped-up windup
          maniac yo-yo with matted curls and snot nose

smearing the panes, having heard another car
     like yours taking its grinding turn down
          our block, or a school bus, or bird-squawk,

that's how much he's missed you, good dog,
     companion dog, dog-of-all-types, most excellent dog
          I told you once and for all we should never get.