I recommend reading this aloud (if you are alone obviously) because it will maintain its rhythm better.
Why Stray Dogs Snarl
Why do stray dogs snarl at all that they see?
Don’t they know that in order to be loved they must wag their tails and heel at the mistress’s feet?
Living filth these rotten mutts, spitting and snarling at all that they see.
Should it not be obvious that a beaten hound grows distrustful of humanity? When every hand he’s ever seen comes to him with a vengeance for uncommitted crimes protected by the hammer of impunity?
How is a beaten mutt to know the difference between a slaver’s whip and the branch of an olive tree?
Why do these hunchbacked willows weep? Do they not know that in order for love to grow it must be nourished in fertile soil deep?
- I don’t know but their tears sure taste sweet, sweet as water from the bath of our lady. Sweet as soymilk from the breast of our queen, yaaas - she, the oracle of Delphine.
Where is this fertile soil of which you speak? Our tears are too salty to nourish the ash at our feet, and we live in the shade of hollow trees that weep poison into the ashen ground beneath.
Why do these rotting bodies sleep so passively in the dark? Surely they know that in order to improve one’s life some action is required. A haircut and a shower go a long way you know, m’lady says it is so.
Even for a frozen corpse buried beneath a foot of snow? We already know; we cannot fight the tide of nature. It was a battle fought and lost before we were born, we have no more will left to fight.
We have no flint to make a spark,
No will to rage against the dying light,
For the night’s sky has long been dark.
ColdLightOfDay
Why Stray Dogs Snarl
Why do stray dogs snarl at all that they see?
Don’t they know that in order to be loved they must wag their tails and heel at the mistress’s feet?
Living filth these rotten mutts, spitting and snarling at all that they see.
Should it not be obvious that a beaten hound grows distrustful of humanity? When every hand he’s ever seen comes to him with a vengeance for uncommitted crimes protected by the hammer of impunity?
How is a beaten mutt to know the difference between a slaver’s whip and the branch of an olive tree?
Why do these hunchbacked willows weep? Do they not know that in order for love to grow it must be nourished in fertile soil deep?
- I don’t know but their tears sure taste sweet, sweet as water from the bath of our lady. Sweet as soymilk from the breast of our queen, yaaas - she, the oracle of Delphine.
Where is this fertile soil of which you speak? Our tears are too salty to nourish the ash at our feet, and we live in the shade of hollow trees that weep poison into the ashen ground beneath.
Why do these rotting bodies sleep so passively in the dark? Surely they know that in order to improve one’s life some action is required. A haircut and a shower go a long way you know, m’lady says it is so.
Even for a frozen corpse buried beneath a foot of snow? We already know; we cannot fight the tide of nature. It was a battle fought and lost before we were born, we have no more will left to fight.
We have no flint to make a spark,
No will to rage against the dying light,
For the night’s sky has long been dark.
ColdLightOfDay
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