Friday, November 28, 2014

All Dogs

All Dogs

That scent—
  I’m like a bloodhound.
Nose to the floor
  and I’ll find it every time.
I’m relentless,
  I know,
But there’s something
  to be said about persistence.

I find sometimes I lose myself—
  I blame the change of season
    A certain smell
        The way the wind brushes my face
           and lifts my hair.

Excuses?  Realities?
  I don’t know.
Something, though, for sure
  is certain:

Women, somehow, serve as
  Both the solution
    And the problem
        Always.

And here we’re left
  to chase our tails
  in this vicious circle.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaamen!

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