Gangsters
Author: Bill Roberts
I hang onto you, my little man,
for you demand undivided attention.
It’s spring and things fly up
from new moist grass,
flitting erratically, causing you
to leap, bound, squirt in different
directions, ignoring the leash,
pulling like a sixty-pound sled dog
instead of the standard dozen-pounder.
A lady runner this morning
suddenly stopped to caress you,
laughing when I told her you were
half longhaired dachshund,
most likely half black alligator.
You’re four and a half and
should have outgrown your childish
ways by now, but no matter.
I’m going on seventy and
together we’re the childish, mis-
chievous, unpredictable gang of two.
(Published in the Vol. 22, No. One issue of Bellowing Ark, January/February 2006)
Note: We never thought Marco (the Barko) would grow up. He’s eight now, still pulls erratically at the leash, and obviously hasn’t grown up. He’ll always be a child, for whatever reason. We’ve tried everything, so please, no advice. He’s our first boy dog….and he’s my boy. It’s hard for us to separate. I’m not sure which of us is the bigger child.
February 3rd, 2010 at 4:47 pm
I really enjoyed this poem and love the words “unpredictable gang of two.”
I saw your poem “New Trick” in the current issue of Spider. How adorable! I mentioned it on my blog post today. (My poem “Snow Music” is on page 32 of the same issue.) Did you receive your complimentary copies?