My Dog, Alfred
Fashioning himself as a gangsta, Alfred
Hitchcock wears his gray hoodie whenever
I take him for a walk through our local
grave yard. He enjoys peeing on tombstones.
An intimidating terrior with
penetrating eyes and monolithic
Easter-Island ears, he refrains from barking,
never smiles, and takes pride in the way
his gray whiskers highlight his black coat. He
lives in his own monochromatic world.
An introvert by nature, he cares not
for human intercourse. Do not pet him.
Such a great poem. The first lines drew me in with their mix of dark whimsy and detail, something that is sustained throughout the poem.
Such kind words: thank you Caitlin.
I noticed, too, that you took time to respond to many other fellow marathon poets. Bravo!