Do you know what you are? You are what you is If you’re a bull mastiff You ain’t Pekingese You ain’t what you’re not Like it or not You lot is your lot And that’s all you got A young Bichon Frisé That her owner named Rita Though she’d prefer to become an Akita She […]
You Are What You Is: Zig Unit Zappa Read More »
I found a whole cooked hot dog, pink and plump, There on a sidewalk, fleeing from its bun, Like our teenaged neighbor, basting in the sun, Surrounded by sauerkraut in a ragged clump, All tossed as if fit only for the dump: Repast fit for kings, no better, none, A banquet beggaring comparison. I was
Schmesign: Zigmund Frost Read More »
Yes, you must see in me, as in those naked Branches, this my year approach an end, Full foliage of summer now unmáked, Shriveled and dry beyond all hope to mend. On these old near-blind eyes a darkening veil As on the forest masking dusk descends, As does the shadow rising up the dale, Leave
Sonnet 73: Zigmund Shakespeare Read More »
My master laughs at me when, of a sudden, I stop and stare at nothing, eyes blunked out Like Orphan Annie’s Sandy, ears perked up As if I might take flight, nose raised to seek For nothing my anosmic master scents. Is it the voice of Canis Major, the great Dog Emperor, I hear, or
For Once, Then, Something: Zigmund Frost Read More »
My Schatzie’s scent is nothing like a steak’s; Her breast is more a boulder than a pillow; If tails wave gracefully, hers coils like a snake’s; If fur’s like velvet, hers is more like Brillo; I’ve seen the gussied poodles of Westminster But no such elegance in Schatzie’s muzzle; And more sweet-scented is the ugliest
Sonnet 130: Zigmund Shakespeare Read More »
Oh wearisome condition of caninity Born with four paws, forbidden still to bound; Denied all joys for which I have affinity, Provided voice, yet not to make a sound. Why am I made to hunt, to howl, to roam And yet impelled to share some human’s home? I am supposed to ask for approbation, To
Muttstapha: Fulke-Zigmund, Lord Brooke Read More »