The POTW: Verse Til It Hurts


POTW #753
(Week of 23 January, 2011)

I went to a different coffee shop than usual today, one with a nice outdoor seating area next to a river. Good java, comfortable weather, all very pleasant, except that there were these two "dogs" tied to a fence nearby, yapping at all the passers by, of which there were many. In the end, it just wasn't possible to concentrate on anything else long enough to come up with a poem:

Sidewalk Sentries

The sidewalk sentries think they're dogs
Bred to enforce terrortorial laws
But hearing their ferocious squeaks
They're more like hairy parakeets
Should you cross their private path
They flap and chirp their shrill little wrath
A piercing, furious, gasping song
Alarm of the indignant wronged
Instilling fear, or so they hope
There's plenty of lather but not much soap
One wonders if they might simply explode
And the consequent shrapnel could injure a toe

Copyright © 2011 by Dave Grossman

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