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Mark Toney May 2020
dollops of dander
mighty mousers meander—
cats with cattitude

© 2020 Mark Toney.  All rights reserved.
5/22/2020 - Poetry form: haiku - © 2020 Mark Toney.  All rights reserved.
Sha Sep 2017
What are the odds
Of finding je ne sais quoi
When you're searching for it
In the middle of a dead language
Or in a parallel universe
Like Sputnik Sweetheart
Lexy Aug 2016
The stars might look like
milky bones from afar.
Or glowing tennis *****,
still clutched in owner's hands
while the dumb dog
chases something hidden.

Did he stick his head
out the window of the spaceship?

Tongue out,

Did he know the hole
he had dug
was his own grave?

I hate when owners
pretend to throw a ball,
only to hide it behind their backs.

The dog trusts you.
The dog loves you.
The dog loves life.
The dog doesn't want to die.
The dog doesn't deserve to die.
The dog doesn't care about exploring space,
it just wants to find that ******* ball.
I got emotional about the dog they sent to space back in 1957
Francie Lynch Jun 2015
The windfarmer was thirty
When Sputnik was launched.
He woke the kids who followed
His finger across the night sky
Of a nativity scene.

He returned to the tractor,
Ploughed years of soil,
Planted rows of questions,
Tilled crops and cared
For animals.

He's a windfarmer now.
Stands beneath the behemoth blades
Turning over the air we breathe,
Felling the clouds,
And harvesting the wind.
The mills are run by a distant orbiter.
His farm,
He calls it Spooknyk.

— The End —