day 310

I think of a dog. I could forgive her for peeing
on the streets, corners, pillars, steps,
such we find enhancing the myth of the city,
built over a city, on top of a city of a city.
she moves through her roads and its signs
oblivious to the oblivion, restless to the rest;
Not yet. And she will soon cross the
barriers, walls, labyrinths, blocks
and sniff out her own territory, on top a territory of a territory.
I think of you. And I follow you; And you follow me.
I, under the economical lights,
walk through the right angles and the left turns,
stroll through the tar and the white paint.
I see, you smell; I, red, yellow and green, and red,
you, black and white.
As boring as the roads we thread.

Many leagues past mountains and deserts later,
after the gaps and traces we step over,
I shall meet you again in PEE.
Fly here with Him, and together we shall wait for you
to pee on the streets, corners, pillars, steps,
barriers, walls, labyrinths, blocks
of an airport, God knows where.

If we're lucky, God will forgive us.