Claire Booker is a Brighton-based poet. Her work has appeared in Agenda, The Dark Horse, Magma, The Spectator, Stand and Words For The Wild, among others. She won The Poetry Society’s 2023 Stanza Competition, and was longlisted in the 2023 National Poetry Competition. Her collection, A Pocketful of Chalk is out with Arachne Press. Her pamphlet, The Bone That Sang, is with Indigo Dreams. More info at www.bookerplays.co.uk.
The feral dogs of Moscow
smell which way the wind blows
have ferocious appetites
prefer rusks to bread, caviar to fish heads
know back-routes to the Kremlin
vote with their feet
are not prejudiced in any way
wear fur beautifully
set honey traps
scratch backs
lick the hand that feeds them
defecate off the beaten track
have perfected the opening of Metro doors
eyeball the idle rich in cafés
hang out at nightclubs and store openings
are stabbed, gassed, drowned, shot
sleep it off
roll in their own mange
let forests prowl in their heads
never forget what the moon is for
grin with wolves’ teeth
kill rats, rivals, the underdog
are the terrible brainchild of Baba Yaga.
Note:
“We shall fight against them, throw them in prisons,
and destroy them.” Vladimir Putin.
Claire Booker
Photo Credits: All via Pixabay
Staring poodle: chili71; Moscow night: EvgeniT;
Ridgeback: guvo59; Caviar: Be_Stasya;
Cafe dog: Sklorg; Toller: Dez_Mez;
Snarling dogs: jrstymiest; Casino: zikiline;
Running dog: Wolfgang157; Moscow skyline: Makalu
Rich dog: PETFOTO;
Red collar dog: coffy; Witch: JoelFazhari.
Ascending Mullach Mor by Claire Booker