black dogs
roam the clinic hallways
growl softly
at the doctors
who deprive them of prey
the late summer breeze
smells faintly of snow
large tawny beasts
heads like hippopotami
stand on elephantine hind legs
drag their tails
fleshy and twitching
through formal gardens
into the crumb-walled ghetto
where they will spend Christmas
frolicking with the Jews
Marc Thompson lives and writes in Minneapolis, Minnesota where he keeps himself busy as the stay-at-home dad of a nine-year-old boy, writing poems, and doing freelance website work for small nonprofits. Someday he may have a website of his own. He has an MFA from Hamline University and his poems have appeared around the world in journals and in cyberspace. He is the author of two chapbooks: Ordinary Time (Laughing Gull Press) and Oklahoma Heat (Redmoon Press).