Dimensionality of Doggie-Funk

“My body is so interesting!” – the puppy’s clearly
thinking; self-entranced and sinking, squats
into his own warm cornucopia, arc-ing forward

from his tailbone, sticks his wet snub-snout into,
and sniffs and licks, his crotch, splayed
haunches: launches into an investigative rout

of his involving scents, and those which
ambiently cling to him, revolve around his
spinning senses – arrantly from everywhere:

such a taste! – this doggie-funk dimensionality
which lesser species can but guess at: nuzzle,
nudge and press at each of its furred, subtle, soft

somatic doors: and flood with more, and more –
begin to understand its overwhelming realm
of hydrocarbon truffle-musk, dense bodily

reductions and effusions which suffuse the lucky
canine nose: oh, what we must be missing! –
kissing this existence with such utter and

voluptuous abandon: and receiving from it
an entire world: all we’ve got are cortexes which
must perplex themselves with metaphor –

and linear geometries of thought: so far from
that grand stirring well of smell this puppy knows:
this fraught experience of being too alive to care

about much else: this wealth – each tiny redolence
of which the puppy can luxuriously choose to
sift through, whiff and pick – then lick again!


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