Recovered: Shakespeare’s Dog
in the theater tonight, the notion of a poem-potion
courtesy of Shakespeare's dog came unbidden
So when home arrived, was unsurprised that
this peculiar pug was farting before my own front door.
get lost, I announced got what I need from your boss,
but before I could kick him across the floor,
pug spake thusly:
this dog knows the boot too well,
it is parcel of this dog's life of no quality,
but if you give me shelter tonite,
I will share some of Speare's un-Published Works
and you can claim it as your own!
kicked that dog across the room,
(having pity earlier I let him in and enter,)
(that’s what I called him)
he can stay the night, or long as the sun rises up and goes down unbidden, but, if I ever caught him plagiarizing, selling sonnets on the side,
I would report him to the ASPCA,
The American Society for the Poets of Conscience Alive -
and have his ***** cut off in retribution.
he laughed out loud, rhyming funny,
thanks for the soliloquy,
me ***** long time gone,
but what I know and what I seen
if tale-told you, and you were to listen,
you would keep me around as fodder for your artistic soul.
in return chappie,
you need only provide me a rug, a fire,
A/C in the languid summer eves,
fodder for me body, and your boots
far away from my hindquarters.
We spoke too much thereafter,
turns out he served his poet-masters in many ways.
his snoring keeps me awake some twenty years later.
his love for country music makes me put him outdoors
on nice days, his headphones securely strapped on.
ugh that pug. became my best becoming love, friend,
one of us will pass someday and an elegy composition
the other will furnish
so if a farting pug before your door found,
take him in, give him water, an amply supply
of Trisha Underwood for his soul,
but beware, he might try to sell you
some of my words, as your own!