I like the idea of a dog

playing in the woods

but not of a human

playing in the woods.

It really doesn’t matter

we might be attacked

at any time

by our own mindfulness

by disturbances

by a human from the woods

who is not clothed

who I wish was

more like me

I mean a battleship

which I don’t understand

whose beauty I was

once convinced by

but no longer am

and I begin to understand

that my wild longing

is for that human

and for his friends

or his friends’ friends

their impossible faces

at the very least

I want to give him something

he can remember me by

an important piece of my collection

the way I order it

and display it for company

but the 17 miles of  juice

between me and him

make it hard

so instead I build a canister

out of stolen scraps of metal

which will record smells

for memory’s sake

to float across to him

in an attractive arc.

It’s Christmas soon

and I want you to

smell your way

out of depression.