chasing cars club - the cars would never hit me!

the dog finds the deer corpse in the snow.
he muddies his paws in its innards
he barks his laughter to the air
sings his howling songs to the wind and car horn
a game, to him, who could blame him?

this is supposed to be an intelligent breed
yet he peers into the slack black eyes
dances on the broken, tire-tread back
and he does not seem to realize
that his car games -
exhaust, engine, motor
those cars he chases
those tires, those headlights
that seem such a game
flashed in the eyes of the deer
and that limp body used to be just alive as his
and that fur was warmed and worn by a breathing body-
now bloodied and matted
with broken limbs twisting broken directions
eyes always glazed now in the headlights
was just as alive as him,
surely danced,
just as he does,
in spinning,
race track circles,
party dancing circles
naivety, vulture circles

those cars the dog chases
that hit this deer -
caused tire-treaded, broken-bended back
crumpled limbs
eyes slack -
those cars,
this dog does not realize,
that when it is him
last moments counted by the white puffs of breath at his muzzle,
they will not even do him the dignity
of bothering to swerve this time.