Sunday, January 30, 2011


As if she understood my every word
And grammar, syntax, intonation, too,
Although to think so’s certainly absurd,
I speak directly to my dog, don’t you?

Don’t you to yours, or to some other pets
You know can’t apprehend our lingo’s sense,
Though they discern our praises from our threats?
Still, we converse as if it weren’t pretense.

Your dog will cock her head and look at you
As if enraptured by the words you say,
As if what you intend she could construe,
As if what you command she would obey.

     The truth, though, is that you’re most in accord
     When she knows in your hand you’ve her reward.