City of Dogs (a poem)

Stray dogs rule this town

on other sides of rusted tracks

where train-cars no longer run by,

and broken needles litter roads of

utter urban hell –

hear dogs howl at nasty nightfalls

under black canvases of iron skies,

smell my rotten soul,

watch hell-hounds surround you

and, if you must, feel hairs

on the back of your ruthless neck

spike up when demon-dogs snarl

and show shrill teeth,

and if you must, pray to

whatever dismal gods you believe,

that you escape dog-town,

because stray dogs rule here –

the city of dogs.

(Photo by dmitriy ostretsov on Unsplash)


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