Ode To God Tricks

There we were with scraps
of dog and puddles of poodles,
Mike and Sassy, Maxi then Arrow.
Hunters and loiterers, one and all.
One for the pope and one for me
I used to say remember,
never eat the prey.
Never, never. Never eat the prey.
One for you and one for me.
Out you go, in you stay.
(Appalachian Trixie looked like Satan,
now it's Iblis and a place called Peyton.)
Under the table with a scowl and then
hunt with the birds, bounce real tall!
Pieces of hound on frocks and aprons,
Labrador was a yard up in heaven.
Evil flowers laughed at the experts
dragons and rabbits, morning glories, asters!
All chains and locks, gates with papers:
the Daily Review, a Mule Mountain
Observer. The postman stayed
where the postman should, next
to his boxes, his locks and his latches.
Everyone had one, Tiger and Lucky,
up in the back Sam and BeeBee.
Across the canyon and down
toward the court and knoll, everyone barking
for all the disappearing folk in that town.
Only the pooches knew the proper nouns.

**Ah yes. And how is it the Kennedy Assassination is still a crime scene but the tomb isn't?
I mean, you had a missing body and in another area, a guy turns up either hanged by his own hand or fallen down and eviscerated in a field he bought with thirty pieces of silver he earned by what, turning in his teacher? Now come on now! Treat the situation like a crime scene, as much as you would that knoll and read the gospels. You'll see what I mean.

So much for the Universal Observer theories of astrophysics! What good are those.