Friday, July 08, 2005


Shit, shit,
oh what is it?
Now I went and stepped in it.
On my shoes
and in my socks,
stink up my nose
until it blocks.
Where is that dog?
I'll pull it's tail.
Or kick the owner
until he wails.
For it's not the hound,
but his careless master,
that let's a pooch,
leave messages after.

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