round

I merely move round
The same spot now.
I am amazed at how

Soon I've run out
Of other spots to probe.
I wag my tail

The way a pendulum
Laps up the seconds.
I must do Pavlov proud.

There is promise in this.
I wield the bone of new
Science and pedigree.

After a hard day's orbit
I ease into what groove
Prods my panting.

Down I wind; up from
The old sky, a howl
For a companion mongrel.


an early version of round was first published in issue 1.03 augustus 1999 of the shortlived, and aptly named, meantime discount magazine.