Dogs

Dogs

I prefer dogs.

So much so I treat people like poodles.

I assume they know simple directions but wouldn’t expect them to get it when I try expressing my treasure.

I know they want treats and affection not lessons and lectures.

The cadence perfected won’t change how they say, “that was great” but don’t get the reflection.

I assume you sense scent better than me too.

Deodorant, toothbrush I keep myself well groomed.

Cause deep down I know i’m a dog out here too.

I treat strangers like strays, and neighbors like they’ve just been spayed and sedation still has them in space.

Shake.

I keep some dogs at arms length.

Date.

I spot her, I call her, we bark and embrace.

Chasing some bitches that don’t know my name.

Following popular Danes like greatness stops at mailboxes most days.

My paw prints look like my pops’.

I am his prince in this dog eat doctor pack dressed as metropolis.

(This parts hard to get but I left it sub par at fetch)

I know the ridge back of apocalypse rode each hen like the cock would would fit.

I treat rodents like pets if i’m left to my own for long instead.

People remind me of dogs more than barking bread.

I’m a mix of shepherd and something French.

Howl at the moon til it phase I guess.