Very Bad Archive
LITTLE DOGGIE
Mugs McClain
Hi, little doggie,
wagging your tail--
Is your name Buster,
Charlie, or Dale?
Might I kneel
and pat your head?
In seven years
you might be dead.
Damn, that's short,
you unlucky bastard.
And yet you're all wagging
and panting all faster.
Now you're all jumping
and yelping in glee--
They'll probably just bury you
under a tree.
Aw, little doggie,
so happy and small,
Can't even see
the inevitable fall.
You're so happy and--
but wait,
Now you're all pensive,
and somber and glum,
Are you thinking of death
and the gravedigger's hum?
Are you thinking of life
and its brutal collapse?
Of misfortune and pain
and of time and its traps?
I feel like you hear me
and feel what I say,
That your conscious of life
and of death in some way.
You're so pensive in thought,
like a monk on a stump--
And--oh, oh, I'm sorry,
you just had to take a dump.
Right on the street, too?
Wow, there's a some real philosophy for you.
Mugs McClain has published 2 more terrible poems since joining on 30/11/99. Read more of Mugs's terrible poetry at the anthology. Here are three of Mugs's latest works: