Patrick Kindig

Our Hairless Chihuahua

is a minor god. He governs,
we think, the desert.
We don’t know
where he came from
but when sunlight
touches him, his powers
increase. His eyes
close & his tail quivers
with pleasure. & he runs
on pleasure. & oh
how he runs.
How he bounds
through dead grass
when he sees someone
to greet. & people
come from miles around
to be greeted, leave
our backyard
feeling blessed.
We don’t know for sure
if he could end
the world, but
we know he never
would. He’s too busy
watering the yucca
& the wild morning-
glories, kicking dirt
into small clouds
behind him. He’ll live
forever if he wants to,
we think. & oh
how we hope
he wants to.

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Patrick Kindig is assistant professor of English at Tarleton State University. He is the author of the chapbook all the catholic gods (Seven Kitchens Press, 2019) and the micro-chapbook Dry Spell (Porkbelly Press, 2016). His poems have appeared or are forthcoming in American Poetry Review, Colorado Review, Washington Square Review, Copper Nickel, and elsewhere.