Ode to a skanky mutt

Yard dog, yard dog
Of what do you dream?
Your chain clank-clanking
over blankets, soiled and thin

Your voice worn hollow
from bark-bark-barking
warning anyone away
who comes within fifty feet
of your precious 16 feet square
of dirt, worn down
to the dead stubs of grass
that once grew there

Yard dog, yard dog
for what do you long?
Your pads are crack-cracked,
and your fur is so rank
we can’t bring you in the house

you’re too big, anyway

If we let you off your chain
you’d knock down the kids,
horrify them
with your skanky breath
and paste their faces
with unwanted kisses

Yard dog, yard dog
what is it you want?
Shut up already,
we need some peace and quiet
around here

Rachel Westfall
December 29, 2008