Friday, March 17, 2006

A Little Friday Poetry

My dog has taken up what I consider an amoral relationship with the tarp under the deck, currently being used to cover our bales of pinestraw. I thought it was just a passing fad, but I found this little masterpiece scrawled on the back of the dog biscuit box. I think it may be turning into something more serious. An intervention may be in order. At any rate, I'm passing it along for your consumption.

An Ode To A Tarp by Henry T. Cockapoo

I love you my tarp
so blue and crinkly
I long to hit you
With my long stinky pinky

How I longed for you
As you sat on the straw
But you never saw me
or noticed me at all

Then you beckoned me
with a fluttering corner
And I stuck my thumb in your plum
like little Jack Horner

Why should I listen
when they call me inside?
When I can be enjoying
The Big Blue Tarp Ride?

They don't understand us
What we have together
With you under the deck
I can hump in all kinds of weather.

It's sad this age
does not understand
the love and commitment
between a tarp and a man.

Worry not about pregnancy
For there is no risk
Several years ago
That bastard had me fixed.

Just say the word
And we'll run away
We'll live out in the country
And hump in the hay.

Or straw, or alfalfa
corn, peas or tomatoes
or covered in dirt
as we roll twixt potatoes.

It pains me at night
When we're forced apart
But know that I carry
your love in my heart.

I weep at the window
As the wind blows through the willows.
Then I go upstairs.
And fuck all the pillows.

Whoa! I think it's best if we just stop there. Enjoy the weekend.

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