Professor R. Judson Mitchell
Ode To Cute Puppy Page
My dog has died. I buried him in the garden next to a rusted old machine. Some day I'll join him right there, but now he's gone with his shaggy coat, his bad manners and his cold nose.
Into the gravity of my life, The serious ceremonies of polish and paper and pen, has come This manic animal whose innocent disruptions make nonsense of my old simplicities- As if I needed him to prove again that after all the careful planning, anything can happen.
Mother doesn't want a dog. Mother says they smell, And never sit when you say sit, Or even when you yell. And when you come home late at night And there is ice and snow, You have to go back out because The dumb dog has to go. Mother doesn't want a dog. Mother says they shed, And always let the strangers in And bark at friends instead, And do disgraceful things on rugs, And track mud on the floor, And flop upon your bed at night And snore their doggy snore. Mother doesn't want a dog. She's making a mistake. Because, more than a dog, I think She will not want this snake.