Sunday, November 22, 2015


                    “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.