Big dog, voice in my head which refuses to
stop panting. Like some oversized mutt which
needs the barrel of a gun in it’s mouth.
I generally resist such violence, especially to
apparently harmless animals, but this dog
has a leering grin and a lolling tongue
and breath which makes my skin crawl.
It’s skin in teaming with tics and lice and
and it’s face is bloated with patches of rot.
It needs to be put down; there is
no other option. It has been following
me around for years, sometimes limping
erratically and sometimes bearing
down on me in all it’s ravaged ferocity.
It is a black dog, this I have seen,
and I know I need to end it, permanently.
There can be no more hopeful sentiments-
Perhaps it will stop coming at me,
perhaps the maggots will
stop dripping from it’s panting mouth
and filling me with such a sense of horror
that I trip and stumble and lose my way.
It has to be ended, it has to be stopped-
I must find the one and only gun I have,
put it into the mutts mouth
and pull the trigger.
Then I must keep moving.