Pitbull

A Poem

If Satire is the measure of wit, Let me proceed with caution.

Pitbull, barking from his window, I hear his incessant arguing from my front porch, as neighbors pass by.

I see them spying my lush lawn, looking for dandelions, seeing only daisies, As they avert their eyes.

Blue clouds, hiding the sunlight, Blanket the spoiled sky, Ominous, foreboding vessels of change.

Uncontested, looking like the rain soon will fall, I get up, rousing towards the kitchen, to prepare for the brood that soon will be returning to fill their lazy bellies, with leftover casserole.

Until I hear chaos coming from my front porch, only to see Pitbull, digging up my front lawn, So much for the daisies, as the neighbors walk by.

© Connie Song 2020