Rotten Wilers That We Are, We Mark Our Territory In More Than Blood

Posted by Erik Moshe on Sunday, October 19, 2014 Under: Rhymed Verses


Give a dog a bone… give a man a cause
Skin a dog of its bones… give a man a cross
Give em’ hell, give em’ Stalingrad
Resist on hills of sand or moss
A shed in the wintertime to fill with chants of God

If well trained Great Danes charged into Khmer Rouge
would it give way to our more animalistic, calmer roots?
or would kamikaze youths wag their tails with explosives
Yelping at the ghosts in the room like they were phantoms with holsters
This land of ambrosias is sensitive to the Pomeranian’s nose
commandeering like Erwin Rommel over armored tanks in the snow
There’s no warmth in the doldrums, where rickshaw dogs sit
Old and latent, sitting sphinx-like next to zip locked sauces
raw bits of human remains, chicken stock gloss drenched
like poodles, watch how high brass do those pimpwalk contests
Tipjars on deck - collecting donations of bacon, no pissed on parsnips
Former canines of war, but about as useful as a skinned aardvark is
an appetite for grim noir - scenes in stillborn scarlet
their pedigree so full of diluted eulogies and C4 hardship
The gauntlet continues, arm them with ginsu’s
When they bark they’ll probably harm or offend you
March in your temples and tear you apart for martrydom’s symbol
ARF’s intermingle, the carnage will triple, opening up the market for Kibbles
Antifada Doberman agents ardently guard all the info
greyhounds survey the dark plains, it’s semiotic in tempo
German shepherd Panzers within a hair’s width - hardly an ingrown
War is a racket, they say - why not quiet that bulldog down?!
The killing fields, the slaughterhouses, the pounds: cook-off grounds
Gunshots and artillery shells are making Pavlov sounds
and the scummiest Shih-Tzu has the most power: making catcalls now
Ask all towns who’s pulling the strategic strings of a vaudeville battlefield
Ashes burn… it makes up the sawmill’s average yield
there’s a passing hearse… and it’s flanked by Siberian huskies
During such doggone days,
someone should extinguish this situation
Sniff the air, scratch their balls, & pee on this country

In : Rhymed Verses 



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