The Hollis Babbler

Dog Poem

I was by the chain link taking a piss.
Red coated demon screamer came trotting down the street
He is coming into my territory.
I normally would bark in defense of my masters area.... but....
I could only bring my snout to let out a howl in sorrow.
The demon screamer had bright blinking suns on his top coat.
The demon screamer was huge.
This demon let out a thundering tortured whine that crippled me and all of my canine friends.
His screams echo hard in my floppys
His screams made me run for cover and chase tail cuz there was no where to go.
His screams caused me mental death.

Big red screaming demon kept screaming dog whines down my street.
He is gone now.
I go chew grass now.
I go tooth chop a stick and think about master chunking it.
I will always fetch after stick,
That is unless master throws it close to a screaming demon who has all the yelling souls of dead dogs inside his light blinking skull.
Then my gnarled up twig is a peace offering to you, great devil beast.
I want no shit from you.
Tail between my hind quarters I must,
wimper walk away..................

What a dog fire truck would sound like to humans-Download dog_fire_truck.m4a

What I Really Really Want

Wanted: Dry Trash

For: My Hole

Hi, I am a pissed off wet n burnt plastic sac bag. A 13 gallon Glad handle-tie bag sac. Why do people continue to pour hot coffee in my hole? Do they not read my cheek sign? It clearly states that I prefer dry rough non-lubricated trash. People continue to douse my insides with flaming hot roasted legume stew. It melts my lining and when barista babes toss my body, I unfortunately release my wettened insides that flow out a new hole. I become useless because my real true hole is tied up and a new melted exploded hole opens to pour out some soggy mess.  Please help me to get the word out. No more boiling bean beverage pouring in my hole, OK? Like I said i have a sign displayed by my hole on my cheeks. Please respect it. I hate it when jittery Java swiggers open up a new hole in me. It hurts and I become the very object that I am suppose to hold....trash. And what happens is sick and unreal. I am gathered up and placed in some other bag sac hole cannibal style. This is how mad cow started with the feeding of cow meat to cow's. We need to prepare ourselves for the inevitable, the infuriated sac bag syndrome is on the horizon people. Watch out you drip drinkers, this disease will melt you a new asshole.