A poodle lived in her shadow,
it was not ill-treated, just ignored,
its matted form
wandered around the house
looking to be noticed.
The living room
was littered with her underwear,
discarded bras, panties, garters and negligee.
I had no idea
why these things all came to rest here,
scattered around her like that.
I was an occasional pal of her son.
Once she fed a pink baby
from her own white flesh
as if not even noticing us boys.
The soft upholstery of the sittee
settled around her
proclaiming her sovereign presence.
The poodle hesitated to enter the room,
knowing, as we did,
we would never be part of her kingdom.
All your body's limbs
obey your brain's commands
But the closest thing to YOU you've got
are the fingers on your hands
You write with them
your thoughts so deep
Erase the ones
you do not keep
You sketch and draw with them
realia dead and alive
Interpreting the world you see
through the prism of your eyes
You play music with them
violin, clarinet
piano and the horn
to express what's deep inside you
your feelings as they're born
Of all the limbs you have, none but the fingers
reveal innermost thoughts and feelings, make them linger