since pitbulls are illegal in dade county.
by Eli Skipp
Sweet-pea, that boy is a junk-yard mutt and screw me silly if'n
he'll ever be anything else, the kind of dog that looks mean and
people buy beware-of signs for but whose hind legs give out after
he's been living too long. Weak at the knees, he has spent the bet-
ter part of these last five years following your tracks with his tongue
lolling out the side of his jowls and at twice your size almost, he
barks out orders at every single male he sees, to prove a point, but
smiles and shifts from foot to foot when you're around. I'll bet you
got him pedigree and used him up so he's naught but the scars where
his balls used to be.
Fittingly, he will probably live to be no older than thirty (which,
still is, a helluvalot of time in dog years). He'll have spent his
entire life working on great big metal objects and bearing his teeth
at the men who've wronged the women he secretly fauns after, who braid
his hair and send him off a-huntin'. When he goes it will be with his
lips aslop with foam and his tail between his legs -- and girly, I'll
bet it's you who picks up his old shotgun and says "I'll do it,
he's my dog."
Author's Note: A bit iffy. For class mostly.
Posted on 12/11/2008
Copyright © 2022 Eli Skipp
|Member Comments on this Poem|
|Posted by Coleman Demiurge on 12/12/08 at 05:32 AM|
Well, iffy or not, I really liked it. Much ambiguity, and I like ambiguity - I like it a lot! It could go either way through most of this; it could actually be a dog, or the dog's a metaphor for a person, but in the end I think it's summed up pretty clearly... And rather brilliantly. Both the first half and second half end in awesome fashion... Superb work; really well done!
|Posted by Jared Fladeland on 12/13/08 at 07:59 PM|
everything you write, iffy or not, is enjoyable
|Posted by Meghan Helmich on 12/15/08 at 06:57 PM|
you're so great with the animal metaphor.