whilst contemplating Kierkegaard and Plato before noon
my dog sat very patiently next to me in the room
My brow was furrowed deep in thought my mannerisms vague
when thus I felt my little pooch a scratching at my leg
"Oh lady dear, philosopher, oh genius, oracle?
I need to poop, I truly do, my bowels are truly full..
so, if you could unglue your ass from that existential bard
I REALLY REAALLY NEED TO POOP
please take me to the yard"
We wandered out his joy unbound
he pooped he sniffed along the ground
he jumped he barked he chased a squirrel
he hopped and leaped and did a whirl.
And in one moment , swoop, I saw
no book nor words can be
as wise nor brilliant as the puppy
scratching next to me.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.