He’s a brown dog conditioned
in chains.
He lives with a castrated desire.
His urges are groomed. To be
gentle, he
must be docile. His fangs sink
into the flesh in a red China
plate. He
sucks on a daydream. Fetters
are unfastened in the dark.
Yet he
can’t chase that street bitch.
There’s an ID tag attached to
his neck.
Sincerity is a strain. Even a
Norway rat scratches his sleep.
He can
lunge, snarl, yap, and is proud
of his vigor. But all are transient
illusions. His
hind legs swell horribly. A vet
diagnoses an incurable fate.
Heart-worms of
despair spreads in rapidly.
Master shuts gate on his face,
not paying
any gratuity. Wisdom eyes
open in his sultry brain.
Whining is
in vain before iron bars.
He deciphers nonsensical
side of
barking. Dropping past litter
in the doghouse, he limps
away through
experience like an ascetic.
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