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cliff-perkinsPoems
A sudden surge tears through the underbrush A tumbling tackle of growling fur A cornered coyote attacked by my two dogs I stand and watch Like it's some nature show More horrible in real life Strange how long it takes A good twenty minutes They must edit those shows He is wounded, wants only to escape My dogs refuse, synchronously circle One hundred and eighty degrees apart He knows nothing of degrees He cannot watch them both So always, one unseen Dives in to wound him more Unlike him, I can - Watch the whole show From a safe distance I do Twenty minutes is an eternity Death does not come easy There are breaks Like rounds in a prize fight A minute or two for everyone to rest He lies there in the middle My dogs nearby Everyone relaxed and panting Like friends on a hot afternoon Perhaps they’ll let him go He tries but, no. They continue the carnage He inflicts a few wounds of his own But the outcome is now becoming clear Knowing this, he whines and begs Like a pup crying for his mother My dogs do not care I keep watching Finally it’s over He lies there, mouth wide open Showing his beautiful white teeth Eyes wide open, showing what I have no wish to see again His life flashing before his eyes And mine The whole time, I just stood there Did nothing to assist the **** or stop the violence Remained on the safe sidelines A ****** of violence Only when it's safe do I approach I take his picture What was it the aborigines said? “No pictures - Your pictures steal our soul” But I insist I take the pictures I steal the souls His and mine Cliff Perkins September 13, 2016
0
Sep 8, 2018
Sep 8, 2018 at 11:05 AM UTC
Coyote
A sudden surge tears through the underbrush A tumbling tackle of growling fur A cornered coyote attacked by my two dogs I stand and watch Like it's some nature show More horrible in real life Strange how long it takes A good twenty minutes They must edit those shows He is wounded, wants only to escape My dogs refuse, synchronously circle One hundred and eighty degrees apart He knows nothing of degrees He cannot watch them both So always, one unseen Dives in to wound him more Unlike him, I can - Watch the whole show From a safe distance I do Twenty minutes is an eternity Death does not come easy There are breaks Like rounds in a prize fight A minute or two for everyone to rest He lies there in the middle My dogs nearby Everyone relaxed and panting Like friends on a hot afternoon Perhaps they’ll let him go He tries but, no. They continue the carnage He inflicts a few wounds of his own But the outcome is now becoming clear Knowing this, he whines and begs Like a pup crying for his mother My dogs do not care I keep watching Finally it’s over He lies there, mouth wide open Showing his beautiful white teeth Eyes wide open, showing what I have no wish to see again His life flashing before his eyes And mine The whole time, I just stood there Did nothing to assist the **** or stop the violence Remained on the safe sidelines A ****** of violence Only when it's safe do I approach I take his picture What was it the aborigines said? “No pictures - Your pictures steal our soul” But I insist I take the pictures I steal the souls His and mine Cliff Perkins September 13, 2016
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cliff-perkins
Sep 8, 2018
Sep 8, 2018 at 11:05 AM UTC
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