fable: [tongue will heal a wound if he licks it]
BY EMILIA PHILLIPS
How far the unknown transcends
the old dog in the metal
tub shivers
what we know
oatmeal for hotspots, oil
of cedar for fleas, little liver pills—
pain, the palatine
cleft by tumor a thumb
against the jaw, & harder,
she opens, gags
one by one, & by the hand
she disappeared
in the underbrush in death,
she rolled & took
on its stench
half willing, half reluctant
of each other
we know nothing,
of another—
I know none
to be led, & leave
the lather, & pouring over—
beneath my fingers her muscles
roll through water,
she blinks, & rinses
black