From The Joy of Lex:
Life With A Service Dog
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| POETICS
I think Edgar Allan Poe’s Siamese,
who as Poe wrote, dug in on his shoulder,
was the architect behind his macabre
tales. I suspect Poe’s cat is the forbear
of my chocolate point, Frank, a sure devil’s
familiar. With Frank, malevolent spews
meet me. But, Lex, my benevolent muse,
greets me with his waggly-wiggle, revels
at the sight of me, prompts me to forswear
dactyls of dour design. His tail throb
deflects the melancholy, the moulder
of Poe. To sculpt a lofty iamb-frieze
I call not on Frank, the mephisto cat,
but upon Lexie, my upbeat aristocrat.
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Life With A Service Dog
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