blue mastiff

 

 

 

   My blue mastiff is a simple fellow,

   who would rather a rub behind the ear

   than a waltz of peaceful singng.

   Empiric as the brood, he sits,

   enation strong, on objects I call

   valuable.

   He,

   who growls at all deliviries,

   nips at foreign fingers,

   scatters all birds,

   eats on the cat,

   sexes unknown females,

   welcomes new lovers,

   holds protest of no regard,

   hardly hates (but who knew)

   protects the baby like a pearl.

 

   He, who

   holds no title,

   evokes no prestige,

   I think, digs Miles,

   prescribes to no beginning,

   keeps no Blacks in the cubbard,

   knows no sympathy,

   creates no division,

   professes no party,

   begs for scraps,

   Cant wait, but

   eats from half opened cans,

   drinks from bowls of

   old water,

   shacks- up with no race,

   blesses no projecton,

   sees no rainbows,

   marginalizes no art,

   Pushes the bottom

   of the fence out

   but employs a joyful play

   to forget the scold.

 

   He, who never looks you in the eye and smiles, but

   would rather smell your bottom to sort out gender.

   Chooses no Viagra for his many loves,

   no Minoxidill as salve for what few scalp hairs he has.

   Takes no sleep aid for a restless night.

 

   Ignores the moon but howls at passing sirens

   thinking it's a call from God.

   It's not.

   Fashions holes in the ground to

   rest his ample hide.

   Claims me as his only kinship.

 

   Though,

   Chases demons and phantoms and

   calls blown yellow plastic,

   the accent of man.

Reviews

[Emily B]

sounds like a pretty good friend to me