Knowing someone isn't coming back
doesn't mean you ever stop waiting. (210)
I have to admit
I loved this book
but I also have to admit that
I was very relieved
as I read
to know that my dogs
were not
at the foot of my bed.
It has beautiful words
like
At night he lies down on the benches and contemplates
the deception of starlight, long dead suns making small lights
almost bright enough to guide the way. (220)
And it has profound observations
like
In the car, the rap song has every other word beeped out
as if the small words themselves were a dangerous thing, and not
the ideas of violence and waste and ridiculous luxury
that the songs clutch in their rough embrace.
Everyone is always looking in the wrong direction,
we worry about our lovers while losing our jobs
we stress out about cancer while our children run away
we ponder the stars while burning the earth.
Lark used to say the bullet we're running from
is almost never the one that hits us. (92)
But mostly it is full of
dogs and men and
one woman per pack
and a really good story that almost makes you
forget you are reading an epic poem.
(Hide it from the children
and possibly the dogs so
they don't realize we know too much.)
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