Some Americans on food stamps
Are demanding food for pets,
‘Cause “pets are more than something that you own.”
I say cut the stamps
And let Lady eat the tramps…
Save money and kill two birds with one stone!
Tag Archives: Dogs
My High School Love Life
The car windows are steamy.
My chest is warm and bare.
My fingers tingle, running
Gently through her golden hair.
Her chin is in my fingers
And I pull her lips to mine.
Our tongues do dance a tango
That defines the word divine.
I pause, she gasps and whimpers
But I say “I’ll be back soon.”
I step into the parking lot
Beneath the crescent moon.
I can read “humane society”
Despite the evening fog.
I tell the clerk “I’ll take her,”
And that’s how I met my dog.
Filed under Poems
He Had Seven Vowels And No Courage
I played scrabble
With my chihuahua.
I played “encumbrance”
Then took a shower,
Hiked twenty miles,
Went to work, went to bed,
Then came back to find
My chihuahua had fled.
It hadn’t played letters,
And my face grew a grin.
I may’ve lost my dog
But still an overall win.
Filed under Poems
What’s A Furry Anyway?
Dogs are lovely.
Cats are not.
I guess It’s inappropriate
To call either of them “hot.”
Filed under Poems
Covfefe: Another Possible Story
I remember my dog
That I had as a lad.
We’d go to the water
And I’d swim with him.
I named him Covallion
Cause I thought it sounded hot.
Turns out he was a girl
So he/she became FeFe.
Cov/Fefe and I
Would eat cake by the lake.
Probably wasn’t healthy for her
But she’d still eat. It was neat!
Then Cov/Fefe died.
How she ate… It was fate.
This poem’s depressing,
But so’s the meme, it would seem.
Filed under Poems
The Evening Following Fido’s Emancipation
Tasty chunka meat
Sizzlin’ nicely on the stove.
Who’s “master” now, Bitch?
Filed under Poems
Midnight Foot Warmer
Soft doggy, warm doggy,
You I do implore:
Happy doggy, sleepy doggy,
Please don’t poop at midnight right outside my bedroom door.
Again.
Filed under Poems
See Spot Run
See spot run.
Spot runs fast
Because if Spot
Comes in last
Spot will lose
His family’s approval
Which will lead, in relation
To his house, his removal.
Spot enjoys
Not living on the street
So Spot runs fast.
Of foot, he is fleet.
Spot comes in second
Which Jane thinks is slick.
Alas, Spot’s owner
Is a Dick.
Filed under Poems
Small Dog, Big Mistake
I saw on my lawn, between the mounds
Of wood chips, a dog of 15 pounds.
It was white and fluffy and ugly as sin
And it was having its way with my newspaper bin.
So I snuck over and scooped him up.
Oh, you should have heard that pup!
He barked and wailed and growled and bit.
I knew no way to calm the…git
And so I took it to the pound
To hope the monster would be found.
The police met me at the door.
As I was cuffed, I asked “what for?”
I was arrested for my labors
For my lawn has no wood chips: ‘Twas my neighbor’s.
Filed under Poems
An Unappreciated Gift
The shape of Mount Everest,
And nearly the size
My dog’s defecation
On my neighbor’s lawn lies.
The shape of an axe
(Because that’s what it is),
My neighbor reminds me
To keep off what’s his.
The shape of a puppy
And the acent of a fart,
My dog watches this thinking
“They just don’t get my art.”
The Daily Travesty 