After his bath and haircut
at the groomer each month,
Deez sports a kerchief
that would look good
at MOMA.
Today it’s a triangle of Mondrian’s
Broadway Boogie Woogie
tied around his collar,
but he shimmies his way out of it
on the drive home.
He’s a modern art dog
sliding down the staircase
like Duchamp’s nude,
always in motion,
pure gesture.
If I were to paint his portrait
as he whirls around the backyard,
it would look like a Pollock.
I sometimes want to do to him
what Duchamp finally did
with ordinary objects
like the bicycle wheel.
Sign my name to him
and call it art.
Comments are closed.