THE NUMBER DOGGIE
From neither here nor there your trashy
postcards from Nostalgialand.
On the reverse side clear handwriting got
invariably lost in a brain-fog.
That’s what happens in this life when
you try to understand things.
Poetry
might in your case have been able to help,
only, you didn’t like poetry you said
and just like that showed me a
newspaper photo of a running doggie.
That I would never see you again
was the final upshot of it.
Loss
is measurable, that investigation I have
now
more or less completed.
Just different data are required
For example the number doggie
taking a run-up to becoming grass.
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