Phantom Limb

The dogs find their pace

In the stubble on the bank 

of the river we walk everyday
Into reverie, they lead me, snuffing, squatting
Our distorted tableau sun-cast upon fetid water.
I salute
Catfish rotting
In weed, victims of aberrant freeze
To these hounds, coated in bourbon,
I drink in this dream

Where I finally have nothing to lose