Walking Juneau this evening has been like a video game,
Cars out of nowhere to dodge, small attack dogs on magical leashes
And muscular huskies who show they know they would throw her
Down for lunch, before lurching off, to become the bicycle guy
Who says what a beautiful dog, and a little girl who stares holding
The largest piece of chalk I’ve ever seen, her sidewalk rainbow art
A plea to remember Pluto and all the stars and all beautiful flowers
Then there’s the gingerbread house with matching Diane Arbus twins
And its doppleganger white dog they giggle at, holding spiral lollipops,
And Juneau finally drinks from the ghost dog bowl as if to earn points.
Some passersby radiate a soul while others may not even be real
But there'd be an explosion if she went up to them just the same.
And I pull til she cedes the challenge with wistful whiskerbrows
As I try to keep her safe, to be her badass self, as humans never are.
We get to the park and it's a dog show, like there’s a man with a pipe
To pronounce verdict to a jury of ground squirrels, but there's nothing
Real in other dogs to Juneau, as a careening skater carries a surfboard.
And the only thing missing, I notice now, there are no automatic
Weapons shot at me from every breezeway, no Molotov cocktails
From off-balance Challengers to detonate my innards, no numbchucks
To fear, tho I do anyway, like the drummer in one of these windows
Who practices the wrist shuffle, anticipating his rapid disappearance
From the condo of doing what others tell him to do, when he’d rather
Whistle his own tune, the one they always told him shouldn’t exist at all,
It had no right, like him, to be — he’d rather slip away than help them
Understand the king’s business is worth the king’s time, they should be
Grateful he can frivole this age of peace where he's not needed away.
The moment I refuse the joystick is the moment all resistance ends.
