A big burger and lots of fries
not the best in terms of healthy, you say.
But excuse me, did I ask?
A ride on the greasy side of life,
no doubt a dangerous delight.
But at its thought,
I’m Pavlov’s dog.
I’ll risk that beating by the great OZ,
doctor that is.
Dismissed as well
the sucking sound of shrinking arteries,
as without ceremony
I devour this
killer feast.

If you think they're greedy now
wait until we're face to face,
when all that's left of our burning world
is a sampling of the race.
Do you suppose they will change
or go down ever scheming,
never admitting they were the cause
of mankind's cleaning.

Never did mind
doing the washing,
and I always pitch in
when something needs doing.
I slip on my work clothes
strap the tool belt on,
tie up my boots
there's work to be done.

Dogged is a Life

Real dogs don’t take their
shoes off at the door,
leave no personal footprints
on your pristine floor.
They slide through lives
like ancients on speed,
giving nothing, only sampling
to fulfil their need.

Their tales are never waged
to fit in any others suit,
but the tail always stands
tall with a solid root.
Never snarling unless a
snarl is so required,
in control, although they
at times seem wired.

I'm on my knees

Begging anyone please

But no one seems to see the storm

Beaneath the sea's calm facade

The twisted mishappen shapes

Dwelling below...

At the core

I'm afraid they will be freed

Unable to go ignored

I feel them seeking revenge

Hunting for fresh untried food

Prey and game

I want to warn others

Tell them to run away

Be wary of me

See me coming?

Run

But I need their help....

Now where does that leave me?
.