“F**k your dogs!” he shouted from his car,
Idling in the dark across the street,
While Gyp and Tig, each twinkling like a star
With blinking safety lights stood near my feet,
And then he roared off, having no reply
From me, aghast at his discourtesy
And scorn, and for no reason I could spy—
It must have been long-festering misery.
“Who knows what evil lurks within the hearts
Of men?” the Shadow said on radio
When I was young, or how such illness starts,
But likely it arises from deep woe.
I’m sorry for the pain that shadowy man
Must suffer from, a modern Caliban.