The Wheel
by Levi Kyllo
Why does the hamster seem to run all day?
He runs and runs only to be let down.
Why does he keep running? I don't understand.
I would give up faster than a turtle running from a bear.
I think hamsters are stupid creatures,
But I give them credit, they workout all day.
They must be so fit, maybe they can serve a purpose.
To inspire humans? To encourage us to get off
Our lazy butts and go perspire?
It is possible, yes, quite possible indeed
He runs and runs only to be let down.
Why does he keep running? I don't understand.
I would give up faster than a turtle running from a bear.
I think hamsters are stupid creatures,
But I give them credit, they workout all day.
They must be so fit, maybe they can serve a purpose.
To inspire humans? To encourage us to get off
Our lazy butts and go perspire?
It is possible, yes, quite possible indeed
Maybe the hamster isn't all that bad.
I wonder if he has dreams of getting off
That circular contraption he has spent his whole life
Running on. What if he is training so that one day
He can break free? Will he be stupid then?
No, he woul be very cunning. Stunned
I would feel, a hamster? No way!
It cannot be! He outsmarted me?
Maybe he dreams of palm trees,
Sweating on the beach.
Running on the hot sand to escape
The Jaws of 3rd degree burns
On his small, delicate paws.
Think he's got a lady back home?
An absolute beauty, princess of the hamster tribe.
Does he even remember her? What about
His family, do they matter anymore?
Did they ever matter?
I wonder how he feels, if his heart aches
Or feels anything at all. Nope, he's cold.
He's on a mission, looking to the Heavens for guidance,
For counsel. He doesn't have time for his girl, his family.
The only thing of any importance
To this hamster is running on the wheel.
No thoughts, no emotion, just constant running.
I wonder if he has dreams of getting off
That circular contraption he has spent his whole life
Running on. What if he is training so that one day
He can break free? Will he be stupid then?
No, he woul be very cunning. Stunned
I would feel, a hamster? No way!
It cannot be! He outsmarted me?
Maybe he dreams of palm trees,
Sweating on the beach.
Running on the hot sand to escape
The Jaws of 3rd degree burns
On his small, delicate paws.
Think he's got a lady back home?
An absolute beauty, princess of the hamster tribe.
Does he even remember her? What about
His family, do they matter anymore?
Did they ever matter?
I wonder how he feels, if his heart aches
Or feels anything at all. Nope, he's cold.
He's on a mission, looking to the Heavens for guidance,
For counsel. He doesn't have time for his girl, his family.
The only thing of any importance
To this hamster is running on the wheel.
No thoughts, no emotion, just constant running.
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Old Man Throwing A Ball
by David Baker
He is tight at first, stiff, stands there atilt
tossing the green fluff tennis ball down
the side alley, but soon he’s limber,
he’s letting it fly and the black lab
lops back each time. These are the true lovers,
this dog, this man, and when the dog stops
to pee, the old guy hurries him back, then
hurls the ball farther away. Now his mother
dodders out, she’s old as the sky, wheeling
her green tank with its sweet vein, breath.
She tips down the path he’s made for her,
grass rippling but trim, soft underfoot,
to survey the yard, every inch of it
in fine blossom, set-stone, pruned miniature,
split rails docked along the front walk,
antique watering cans down-spread—up
huffs the dog again with his mouthy ball—
so flowers seem to spill out, red geraniums,
grand blue asters, and something I have
no name for, wild elsewhere in our world
but here a thing to tend. To call for, and it comes.
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