Ruby '81 - Aesop Rock

July 4th, 1981

Candles of a Roman ilk

Unloaded from a Chevy truck

Into the home her folks had built

Patio was charcoals and extended fam in folding chairs

Safely arced around the yard to focus on the smoking flares

Couple cousins, uncles, aunts

Mostly grown-ups, couple brats

Baby Ruby’s only two, she’s too close to the jumping jacks

Mommy scoops her to the house, buckles up the booster seat

Rolls her to the storm door, let her long for all the lunacy

Telephone distracting Mom, Ruby wriggles out her strap

Fingers push the plexiglass, she’s off into the sour patch

Past the pyrotechnics, undetected and invisible

Woke the sleeping beagle skipping toward the kidney swimming pool

Off into the yawning blue, the splash would mum the rocket-ships

Ruby’s lungs were filling by the time her kin were cognizant

Many sprung and sprinted down, all arrive belated but

The beast she had earlier stirred had been alert since waking up

Canine let his gainer fly, water-top commotion grow

Howling guests assume the cloven hooves had come to do-si-do

Frenzied and congested deck, part to let the others see

Soggy beagle gently dragging Ruby in his yellow teeth

Laid the tiny body in the sun before her father‘s feet

When she choked the liquid through her bluish lips he dropped his knee

Help the air to reconvene, towel his shaking Ruby off

EMT confirm the save, everybody say «good dog!»