Cannon-Shot Dog
by Noah Powers
Man, let me tell you,
they shot that motherfucker
straight out of a cannon.
Packed that sumbitch
with a fresh load of powder.
Lit the wick like a Yankee Candle.
Sent his tiny ass through a cloud!
Left a tiny dog-shaped hole
in that cloud. Look at it.
Look at the tiny hole. Shaped
just like the cannon-shot dog.
He’s flying away now. Chasing
comets, migratory birds and what not.
Couldn’t tell you why it happened.
But I saw it all with my own eyes.
The damndest part: the dog hopped
right on into that cannon barrel.
He must’ve been Vin Diesel’s dog.
Or kin evil’s dog. Anyway, I only knew
they shot off the dog
because I was tired of thinking
about me. What, with the woman I loved
walking right on out the door.
Well, it was me that walked out,
looked up to see the clouds in shapes
she’d said were long past knowing. Love,
it never made any sense. But I watched
him tumble through the air—
would you look at that—
it's the cannon-shot dog!
He wound up on all fours,
not twenty feet away.
He came right on back.
I can’t believe it!
I can’t believe it.
Noah Powers (they/he) is a queer stalactite from the roof of Mammoth Cave. Currently, they drip cool, delicious water on the MFA program at the University of Alabama. Their droplets have been published in Rejection Letters, Ghost City Review, and Autofocus, among others. He is conserved on Instagram @noah.powers.
