after robin coste lewis*

the dogs do not have names
so you just call them
with a whistle
they bark still and still and still

they are not animals
they are just humans
that have lived out their lives
and found a new body

the dogs do not speak english
so you bark back
and they look at you,
ears raised

and mouths dry
and dumb, tongues,
rough like sandpaper
and teeth that shine like enamel pins

the dogs do not run
they move like water
muscles like leaves in
autumn

all you need is
an ocean calling
your name, the dogs
can't give you that

the dogs are all you need,
as they run and whisper to
each other
they do not speak english
so you curse each one in tsimshian