by Tyler Bigney
It took a lot of convincing on your part,
but eventually, I gave in, and accompanied you
to the county exhibition, where we walked around
and saw cows, pigs, goats, horses and chickens
that the farmer dyed hot pink.
Stopped at the beer gardens and shared
a pint of Heineken and left to go find out
where the smell of sausages was coming from.
When the sun went down and darkness
enveloped the city, people scurried to their cars
to kiss and caress and to fuck. We walked to the tent
where the old ladies gambled their pension on Bingo.
On the way, I spotted a three legged dog.
I stopped to pick up a stick. I held it in front of me
and tossed it as far as I could.
“Go fetch,” I said, pointing in direction of the stick.
We watched him disappear into the night.
We waited ten minutes, and when he didn’t return
we went to the car.
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I liked this poem! I'll bet that 3 legged dog was stepping. Reminds me in my back yard, piles of strange crap appeared under my apple tree, my Aussie pal's were telling me about wombats, I thought it was coon or possom shit, until I tasted it. I'll bet that old 3 legger made it over by me
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