A luxury sedan sways round the curve,
Scattering roller-blading hockey players.
The motorist wears sunglasses, though night
Is gathering; his Great Dane, riding shotgun,
Leans from the window and barks furiously
At a bewildered terrier on the sidewalk.
Libidinous inanity! Woof! Woof!
I’ve got a Lexus and you’ve got a leash!
Driver and dog, quite clearly, haven’t learned
That anybody can achieve an ego:
The real trick is resolving to transcend it.
Innocent ids, the boys regroup; one cuts
A circle sharply, swings his stick, and rifles
The plastic ball that serves as puck between
The pair of soda cans that serve as goal posts.
The superego’s representatives,
Six ravens mob the disappearing car
Before they peel off, cawing, to the trees
While the small terrier–-hair in his eyes,
His toenails clicking pavement–-trots away,
Leading his owner homeward from their ramble.
from Toward the Winter Solstice, 2006
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