moe

i dream of the dog
again. moe. the beast.
he's alive and well
and barking, causing
havoc in the street.
despite being round
and short and slow
he'd run towards any
dog to fight
then roll over and pee
straight up in the air,
suddenly frozen with
fright. he never met
a pair of shoes he
didn't delight in eating.
or coat, or purse, or
chair leg that wasn't
tasty. oh how i'd
love to spank his little
red self just one
more time.