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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