Two Poems

by Bruce McRae

The Dog Said

The dog said Christ
is there no limit to man’s cupidity.
Looking up from his bone the dog said
there are cities on fire, and rivers too,
mankind’s cruelty effortless,
his nature unnatural.

Gnawing a flea, the dog continued;
I can’t get their taste out of my mouth;
and the stench is spellbinding.
Man’s stink is ordure and fear.
The sounds he crafts
are the noises death makes when weeping.

The dog pulled at his chain and growled.

A strange meat was his dinner.

Everything Is Anything And Something Is Nothing

Turns out my poems don’t have a centre,
aplomb and panache headed west,
the last hanger in the closet clanging,
dust devils dervishing in the inkwells,
the dream-dogs slipped their leashes.

And now the mid-winter blahs have set in –
blah blah blah being the gist of it,
the gospel according to Saint What’s-His-Face.
Another day in the come-what-may,
every syllable a dull edge, each trope a firefly
you hope to jar and display,
communication tenant to the human animal.
Another day at hand and we expect big things,
disappointment a salve for our convictions.


Bruce McRae, a Canadian musician currently residing on Salt Spring Island BC, is a Pushcart nominee with over a thousand poems published internationally in magazines such as Poetry, Rattle and the North American Review. His books are ‘The So-Called Sonnets (Silenced Press), ‘An Unbecoming Fit Of Frenzy’ (Cawing Crow Press) and ‘Like As If” (Pskis Porch), all available via Amazon.
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