V

Tar Baby, a black Cocker with blue eyes

Like my father's. After the divorce, Tar,

Out of my father's bitch, Black Bubble,

Sired by Iowa's Philosopher's Dream,

Was a part of the whole I nursed

From a pup. That winter Tar was all

Of a man I had in the house. I remember,

Once, when he displeased me, I thrashed

With my hand until we hurt. Always

A rover, he would be gone for days

And return for a meal and be gone,

Again, from my heart. Within two years

I returned him to my father (some

Problem in my mother's moving) and then,

So they said, he got out and was gone

For good. I never saw him again unless

It was him I saw, from the top of a ferris wheel,

Ten years later, returned for the Iowa Fair,

Off yonder, I thought I saw Tar

(O Death) making his way between the legs

Of strangers. I think I see him now in the blue

Of any blue-eyed boy who catches my breath.