Man created dikes, canals and bridges to conquer the ocean.
But from these cardboard boxes, the puppy splashed and
tumbled out.
He tossed golden sail boats, gobbled beach sand, then spit it up again on cliffs and rocks.
For old slippers he nibbled at tree roots and docks,
crunching wood, devouring stones.
Man cooked electricity and machines and tossed the
leftovers into the waters. Fish floated belly-up. The
dancing waters stumbled. The phosphorescent glow turned
dull. The elfin magic ended. The puppy died.
Dog is man’s best friend. Why does man kill his friends?
