I have my garage door a quarter
of the way open to let out the smoke
so I can only see her legs walk by
and the dog stop
again.
Every time that maladjusted hound
sees me it will
plant itself
wherever that might be
and voraciously bark at me
as though it were infested
with the urge to kill me
in a cold snap of rabid maw.
“No…sit…be quiet…come on.” She’ll say
and the dog will eventually listen and quietly
proceed out into the night
out into the walk
to piss on everything and eventually
shit.
I wonder what that dog’s deal is
why it keeps barking at me.
Does it
on an instinctual level
suspect
that I’m a maniacal misogynist
that I prefer cats
that I strangle puppies or
was born in an egg?
Does it know something that I don’t?
Nah,
probably just skittish
or maybe
just an asshole.
hernanjmonzon.com 
lol….you crack me up, Oh Lover of Cats!!
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I’m catman! Dogs, I’m not sure I can trust. At least with cats I KNOW I can’t trust them.
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Lol. Always good to know where you stand!
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Yes! Right beside the ruffled, senile fur-basket!
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Dogs need to calm down!
Good poem.
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That dog should definitely take a chill pill…washed down with bleach.
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And thank you! I need to get out more.
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Dogs need to get out more – of your life.
I don’t think this poem shows signs of someone needing to get out more. At least in terms of artistic enjoyableness.
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Thank you so much, Billie.
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