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Poem
Everything here is true
Just as stated
because it's already happened
or - it has yet to occur - 
but it's very soon to occur
and I have such strong feeling
that the future will be as I see it
as you read this
that in the end I will be proven right.
You are that occurrence
you are happening
and I think you will understand.

Love is a dog
on a chain
in a muddy yard
on a cold day
in a silent town
where the land slopes
down to a river.

It's the end of autumn
or the beginning of winter
and the silence is tidal
total
and you know that things are not right
under the sky of hard iron
between all the old buildings
of red faded brick
that were made when labor and materials were cheap.

Big old buildings all squares and rectangles
former warehouses
tenements that saw many families
hotels of a prior age
offices where she used to work
where he ran the elevator
where they came and went
but now nobody is walking
no vehicles move on the streets
it was just me.

And the dog.

There is more about the place
it could have been in a movie
with the camera panning around
capturing aspects of vertigo and dread
a province of scary infirmity
that makes you think
you are dreaming
because you've had dreams before
and you've seen horror movies before
but you know there's no such escape
not a dream not a movie
and the dog is real.
Lonely. Thirsty. Hungry. Cold.

It wasn't always that way
not the dog
not the town.
Long ago the Continental Army
was headquartered here
in the American Revolution
and the city thrived
into the future
lots of transportation
and manufacturing
through the 1800s
but then river traffic fell to almost nothing
railroads and trucks took over
companies and people moved south and overseas
and the town grew quiet.

Now it's the cold season
the silence of an endless cold season
almost monochromatic under that iron sky
all black and white or in-between
except for the fading red 
of the bricks in those big old buildings.

This is where the owners
love the dog part of the time.

This is where a pigeon steps 
on a little discarded plastic ring 
from a jug of milk
and the ring stands up
above the ground
where a cold wind blows torn candy wrappers around your feet
near the chain link fences
the dirty concrete with moss growing in the cracks
where branches show against the sky
from dark tree trunks
by the wrought metal railing
that has caught a plastic bag
that was blown by the wind.

The silence.

You feel the lack
the absence of bird calls
coming down in rivulets and chips of silver
showing they are alive.
It's not to be this day
the silence holds sway
life seems more of an echo.
Any faint smile
of the sun
shows false in the shadows.

The dog didn't make a sound either.

I'm tempted to end right here
but no
we haven't really gotten to the love part yet.
Sure - maybe they loved the dog some
maybe the owner was sick or old
or just couldn't care for it much anymore
or they had grown up and moved away
while the dog remained.

Long ago there was the Telephone Company of New York
and through buyouts, governmentally enforced divestitures, and mergers 
it later became Metropolitan Telephone and Telegraph Company
then American Bell Telephone Company
New York Telephone
NYNEX
Bell Atlantic
and now we know it as Verizon.

The dog was real.

The town is Newburgh, New York, USA
and it does slope down to a river
the Hudson River
and the old buildings
latent
waiting
bear witness.

I was there in the late 1990s
when it was called NYNEX and then Bell Atlantic.
The old telephone building still had the places
where the switchboard operators 
would sit with earphones on
listening to call requests, or
they manually plugged in wires
to connect incoming calls
with house telephones
in the local exchange.
A light would glow
on the bottom row
of their array
and they'd connect a wire
from the plug-in hole by the light
to number 0313 for example
if that was the number in the exchange
that the caller wanted.

The materials were beautiful
all the hardwoods
fiber, metal and cloth
high-quality stuff
that hadn't been used since 
the late 1960s.
The lattices were still there
the wire pairs
for each number
ten thousand at a time
i.e. 0000 to 9999
those wire pairs
had their brackets
from where they went all the way to people's houses
the hard wired connection.

You're with me now
there's nobody else
nobody from the telephone company
and I have the door code for the electronic lock.

We exit the building
and the dog is looking at us
from the lonely cold muddy yard 
behind the next old rectangle of faded red bricks
there is something there
not much
not real hope
but dark eyes upon us
some wonder some... something...
no sound.

The dog never makes a sound.
You see one of the shames of my life.

I go over to my truck and drive away.

It wasn't that the dog just couldn't make a sound.
It didn't quickly raise its head
it didn't jump up or
come toward me 
as far as the chain would let it
or at least tilt its head
questioningly
as if I might present some hope.

There is love
but it was so far away from that dog
that all was silent
the most terrible silence.

So now I'm a 57 year old man
sitting here crying because I could have gotten that dog a good home
or I could have called somebody who would do that
you should see me crying
or I could have just called somebody
or I could have gotten that dog something good to eat
and some water
oh dog I'm sorry
I could have knocked on the door 
and asked about the dog
and offered to help
you should see me crying I'm a mess
I could have gone over
and hugged the dog
and said oh dog
it's okay
you're a good dog
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