Panorama of San Bernardino

Monday, November 24, 2025

A poem for Pippin at 453 am

Scowling, I walk downstairs

Pippin is barking again, and again 

His bark as sharp as a Ginzu knife

It pierces the ears, makes eardrums

Metaphorically bleed with annoyance


"I am getting rid of you

Then I'll only have two

A caramel colored girl 

And a snowy white boy

The brown spotted shih tzu gone"


"But where would I go?

To the cornfields? To the beach?"

"No my little pretty," I cackle with glee

"You will go to she, the mother of me

Judy. She will fix thee."


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