Thoughts On The Dead

Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To

A Terrible Poem By A Good Dog

buck-noble-wyoming

Smells.
I will smell them.
Tree.
I will smell it.
Tree.
Smell this one, too.

The Guy does not smell things,
Or if he does makes a big deal out of it:
Bending over,
Shoves his snout right in the thing.
The Guy is getting old;
Cannot smell anymore.
Maybe.
I don’t really know.

He could have the rope if he wanted it;
I just pull on it because I like to pull on things.

The deer down in the clearing
Is weak and
Chase it,
Nip the undersides where it’s soft,
Tangled on its own guts and
Down on the dirt:
The organs are the best part,
But tough.
Cats kill their food before they start eating;
You know what they say about dogs and cats.
Why do I know that?

That tree has not been smelled;
I will smell it.

2 Comments

  1. Buck has never killed a living thing. Ropes on the other hand, he murders by the yard.

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