4 January 2012
True Story (Dedicated To My Dog The Hammer)
The more cynical of you have probably thought,
"I bet Beer,
Or whatever the fuck his name is,
Does not even pick up his dog's shit
When they are out in the park."
I love picking up dog shit.
That is what working in a sawmill
Your whole life does for you:
It gives you an appreciation for the finer things
Besides working in the fucking mill.
On those rare occasions when I
Lose track of where my dog has shit,
Usually due to fog
(My dog's shit steam escapes traceless into it)
And darkness' early onset this time of year,
I find myself a couple cold wet dog shits
Some other dog owner has left behind.
Do not care for cold wet dog shit much.
I like it hot from my dog's ass,
Especially this time of year.
Feels good on my shaky cold fingers.
The next day,
I find my dog's shit from the day before.
My dog shits big so it is never hard to find
If it is still a little light out.
I have a dream.
I dream that dog shit will one day all be recycled.
If we made bricks out of recycled dog shit
We could use them to build government offices
Every time the motherfuckers want new digs.
Some people have
Outside the box.
Not this motherfucker.