Dog intuitively understands Einstein’s concept
of space-time. There is a round
space contained by the hard plastic bowl
and it takes time before it is filled
with crunchies. Too much time, usually.
When a shadow passes over the bowl
the hole of it turns black, and if crunchies arrive
then they are swallowed up. Once a worm
was wriggling in the bowl, though it’s usually
slugs. Dog yawns and wonders fleetingly
how long it will take this event to reach Alpha
Centauri. He wonders if it will bend
along the way. But largely he wonders
when master will get his scrawny butt
home and fill the bowl again.
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