SELF-PITY

It doesn’t matter where you walk your dog,

in Point Isabel or on a Tilden trail,

your pooch will find it, the patch.

You know the patch I mean:

the one your dog is rolling around in

when you catch-up to it.

The one that has it all wild-eyed

and wriggling out of control.

It won’t stop, it can’t stop,

no matter what tone you take with it.

Your animal is just too damn busy trying 
to cover every inch of itself

with the vile matter, which is either

shit or the filth of death.

You will literally have to grab it by the collar

to end the disgusting episode.

Then later, you will have to spray

the beast down in the front yard

before you can even think of letting it

back into the house.

And yes, you will be the one left 

holding the hose.

Any of this sound familiar?