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Wednesday, May 18, 2011

ode to a hound








dear dog,

you will be the death of me
getting me up before the clock strikes three,
then, again when the clock strikes four
I should kick your mangy-ass right out the door.


dear dog,
you will be the death of me
just like the bird you lured from the tree
all stiff and bare
left on the ground
what a lovely surprise I must have found

you are not a cat
you are not a killing machine
you are not starving
you are far from lean


dear dog,
why must you always find trouble, 
digging up the garden,
turning the compost bin to rubble,
chewing on the HVAC pipes,
tunneling under the fence,
your behavior really has an awful stench.

in fact,
it really 
gripes
my ass.

1 comment:

  1. Shame! Those lovely big eyes too, projecting the look of innocence!

    ReplyDelete

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