POEM FOR PUPPETS AND STRAY DOGS
translation from nowhere 

when they forget their lines we go down to the street
stray dogs move in and out of the crowd
tear-gassed canines rushing at the police 
I am a forgotten part of myself. I am biting the cop’s neck
they don’t know how to keep us from speaking like that
until we can taste the blood—until it runs from their throats—
on TV a good puppet plays the part of a leader
until the strings come into view. until they try to sweep us away
there’s nowhere you could put us all. nowhere 
we would go without biting

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