11 December 2007

This is sort of like a really long haiku.


It must be the Christmas spirit which makes me decide to write a nice poem!

hello little homeless man, sitting in the middle of the field, strumming your guitar. i know you sleep out here, in the willows, and eat things you throw out for my dogs to enjoy the next morning. how tiny and short you look, as if you have no legs, like a fluffy beard plant, calmly sitting in the field and the dogs are running at you. and as if by magic, otterpop does not stop and consider attacking you but goes on to get the giant branch that she considers a stick and ruby and gustavo continue racing as if possessed by razor sharp bees stinging them a lot.

hello, weird poodle lady, who always is frantic and has a new, short poodle which is puppy and which gustavo would like to frolick with for many hours. why are you chasing me and calling, "excuse me! excuse me!" over and over? now why do you have to explain to me that your tiny little poodle puppy will not hurt gustavo? and my only answer can be, in my ranch lady voice "lady, he is a little ass kicking dog and i think he'll be ok." as if i am sheriff tommy lee jones of the field and i am sitting in the diner, eating some pie. then she is chasing after me again, "excuse me! excuse me!" and wants to know, if the poodle gets near enough to me, can i grab it's collar because he is having so much fun he will not come to her when it is time to go. i believe i roll my eyes and wish for a moment to be cartman from south park and snatch up that curly little poodle.

hello christmas spirit family, why are you taking your baby's photo, in a goddamn sparkly baby headband, on a red blanket, in the middle of where the big and wet dogs are pummeling each other on the beach? nice lady in red sweater and black slacks. and the man in a red flannel checked shirt. I can't even watch to see what happens there. please, please, please, otterpop and ruby and gustavo do not run over and leap on the baby. all the labs are damp and sandy and weigh over 60lbs and the baby is just sitting there, on that blanket.

hello all the people that maybe now think i am retarded or mean or from another country, because when you ask me a question such as, "are those all your dogs?" the best answer i can think of to say today is just pretending my lips have been sealed shut with epoxy and i will give you an enigmatic smile ala madonna as evita and march along into the sunset.