TEAR ME DOWN SOME,
I KNOW I CAN
I KNOW I CAN
COMMUNICATE
WITH DOGS
WITH DOGS
I don't have to prove a thing. Isn't that weird? The brainstorm
where the candy-store was is now a bowling alley made of
green. My lead dog Guider pisses there all the time. We talk.
-
My second dog, Jingo the Parasite, has a sister who's an elf. We
understand that to be exceptional, and discuss its ins and outs in
our own courtly manner - from a long line of junkers, he knows
what the junkyard dog feels. Pontiacs and a Lincoln in rare
profusion; everything together, baling his hay and feed.
-
The third dog I want to mention is the worse of the three : I call
her Dioge, pronouncing the 'e'. You may think, as I did once, that
it's short for his full name, Diogenes. But it's not. Simply put, the
fine dog's name is D O G; spells dog. These are elements of things
I can talk of. We communicate well, these canines and me.
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