Riddles

A couple days ago I dug up an old poem to show a professor.  (I am doing a poetry study this fall.)  It is more of a riddle than a poem, actually.  I wrote it in imitation of a different riddle, which starts like this:

A Martian Sends a Postcard Home

Caxtons are mechanical birds with many wings
and some are treasured for their markings --

they cause the eyes to melt
or the body to shriek without pain.

I have never seen one fly, but
sometimes they perch in the hand.

[That's books it's talking about, in case you couldn't guess.]

Mine is more down to earth (literally).  Anyway:

Old Dog Explains to New

Dust.  Some they put on

their cheeks, with small brushes, but some

they push into small piles with large brushes

on the floor.  And some they make the big monster,

who always wears the leash,

lick off the tiles.  And still some

they keep in small jars and

dump on their food.

Do not bring it in from outside.  Also do not add

water.  No wet dust down here (Bad Dog),

but the Small Loud One may

put it on squares with still other brushes.

That is the No-No Bad Dog.  Do not

put your face by it, or be spanked.

They put everything small in there, to send

outside for the green man to take away in big bags,

and then bring the things back in small bags and boxes.

This has always happened.

Stay Off.  That is the Floor that Moves.

When they get on it, you will not go Out.

When they get on it, the Out is

wet, or colder, or sometimes hotter.

No no no no.  Bad bad.  Never do That

unless Out.  Cat may in the box of Her dust but you

must not.  Now they will put you Out

for not waiting till you were Out.