My dog is a doppelgänger

My dog is a doppelgänger,

an ungodly imposter

with familiar dark eyes,

slick auburn coat

and sharp claws that click-clack

on the hard kitchen floor.

Only I can see the way

his foul lips curl upwards

like a slavering beast’s,

revealing bone white teeth

sheathed in putrid gums.

The misshapen curve

of his alien skull,

and how his sturdy snout

bulges with malignancy.

When this trickster speaks

with soundless voice

the long silence is dizzying.

But I understand anyway

that his eerie presence

is an omen, or a warning.

The Martians are coming.