Dog Poets
Well now that equilibrium is more or less restored after a couple nights sleep, I feel a bit embarrassed about losing my cool in public (see last post,"Jesus Christ"). (although I doubt that my version of "cool" meets the minumun legal definition) But, having one's inner sanctum suddenly invaded like that is a bit jarring. I don't have to go back there, however, and on the street, I can at least stay on the qui vivre and not be surprized.
Whatever.
This blog is about my sister's dog, Layla, who wrote a poem.
Layla was of indeterminate parentage but had the coloring, size and personality of a golden lab, as I recall.
I think not too many animals write poems, or if they do, it's about food, killing other species, and doing things in the neighbor's yard.
Actually, you might consider that analysis when reading your human poets. I mean, the subconscious will out, eh? Know what I'm sayin'?
Especially the "warrior poets". Dig it.
Anyway, my sister (she's the talented one, wonderful watercolorist), translated it and submitted it to some publication. She told me all about it but, of course, I forget.
Perhaps it was a competition of some sort.
Anyway, it got published, and for a while thereafter, the dog was getting fan mail.
Fortunately, fame went not to the dog's head, so there were no incidents of drug abuse.
Here is the poem
TO THE BEACH
by Layla
The Bitch/ Man
Took us to the
Soft ground
and big wet
We did stick
and dig
and bird go
Muppet played bark
Many smells were ours
The moving nothing was cool
and the soft ground
was warm
There were no NO's
and our tounges laughed
Muppet was another dog in the family, looked like a foot stool.
They were both getting along in years and are now ex canis.
Whatever.
This blog is about my sister's dog, Layla, who wrote a poem.
Layla was of indeterminate parentage but had the coloring, size and personality of a golden lab, as I recall.
I think not too many animals write poems, or if they do, it's about food, killing other species, and doing things in the neighbor's yard.
Actually, you might consider that analysis when reading your human poets. I mean, the subconscious will out, eh? Know what I'm sayin'?
Especially the "warrior poets". Dig it.
Anyway, my sister (she's the talented one, wonderful watercolorist), translated it and submitted it to some publication. She told me all about it but, of course, I forget.
Perhaps it was a competition of some sort.
Anyway, it got published, and for a while thereafter, the dog was getting fan mail.
Fortunately, fame went not to the dog's head, so there were no incidents of drug abuse.
Here is the poem
TO THE BEACH
by Layla
The Bitch/ Man
Took us to the
Soft ground
and big wet
We did stick
and dig
and bird go
Muppet played bark
Many smells were ours
The moving nothing was cool
and the soft ground
was warm
There were no NO's
and our tounges laughed
Muppet was another dog in the family, looked like a foot stool.
They were both getting along in years and are now ex canis.
Labels: Dead Dog Society
