Lack of animal care in Africa


The scavenger dog

Moving along the dirty streets
With its standing ears down
Sored at both tip. No gametes
At sight sex unknown no proper noun

Running away from stones
Well targeted, thrown by the jocular juveniles
For showing interest in contested bones
They laugh unhappily as their best friend flies

Feasting on the black round faeces
Of well fed fat goats
Or a week old lorry ridden rats or rotten Pisces
Puddle. Lucky when it sees a bone that floats

Playing seriously with Latrine flies
Who always surround its nine vivid ribs
Sucking nectar where it wounds lies.
In its hair dead ticks build their cribs.

Lying comfortably on the puffy street sewage
Allowing the fighting mice to lull it to death
It was after a drink from the drainage
And barking on a scorpion which it later ate.

Shaking helplessly on the road
Till the lead trailer ran pass it.
It was buried by cars and buses full with load
The worms and flies could not just die with it

It was a pregnant bitch.

Poetry by kid
Read 828 times
Written on 2006-09-04 at 19:13

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EmelÚn The PoetBay support member heart!
this was a painful read. You captured me with every sentence. This was brilliant . Now I cry .You are good .

Kathy Lockhart
Vivid images, so pitiful the sight of this poor dog. You told its story so well. Kathy

This incredibly powerful. My heart is just bledding after this!!

Judy T Lloyd
Poignant and powerful, and the reason why I rescue as many as I can. They are grateful.

phew. i hate it.

the description is exceptional. the scenes are real. it is not even a proper noun, the scavenger dog. this is phenomenally well-written. disturbing. good.

phew. i hate it.