And they kill.
The first dog's
face looms as
large as a dragon's.
With her mouth
she presents a
ball and when
it touches your
face it is wet.
Wolves come one
night and tear
apart her sides.
She looks like
wet feathers:
wet-red feathers.
When she is
stitched, she
is shaved like
a bird and
the stitches
heal like scales.
One sunny day
we go to
the beach but
leave the dragon
on her chain.
She hangs herself from it.
I see flies eat
the eyes of a dragon.
The second dog is
always pleasant.
But once another
comes and bites her ear.
She bleeds on the carpet.
Once she runs
up a path that
is too narrow.
When she turns
around she starts
to fall,
on her leash
she is choking:
so I let her fall,
and she limps
for months.
When she is old,
she is incontinent;
So dragons also
are let to sleep.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem