You speak of Pit Bulls, I block and parry And mightily chirrup my hostile parody of Protectionism and fear, borne on a swathe of Hordes alike, the brethren of the Bull Dog, with Eyes made bright like reptiles, shaking our tried and tested phrases at you and your tears, we emit our jeers and paste our memes, our gladly mesmerised heads excitable & sweaty with Pit Bull dreams.
He moves apart from me, and yet is the sum of me constrained by my hope & the leather cord, he glances at me & my lost heart loves him so, although I know, I know and know, that constant, the last vestiges of my former conscience murmurs like the buzzing of a picnic bee, the wasp in the bottle that I raise to my lips, 'you are his creature' He could evade your hopes at any time; Gift a deadly sting of blood and truth and terror.
Lord of the streets, people fall away in whispers Disapproving, changing directions, crossing streets, Glancing, avoiding; clutching their pets to their breasts or their flanks, panicked and panicking, He knows & I see his chest burgeon & his eyes Lighten, I speak & his ear turns but between the stinking rope that binds us, I feel his joy & the Weighty sum of all his blood & all his ghosts The furious, fast, ferocious past & his inheritance Bound to me in my cosy home, this dog of death and bone.
Iconic outlaw; he is me and I am him, rejected Dejected, misunderstood – my frail psyche found Peace in his dangerous face, his smiling jaws, he plays On me as fearless as a loveable rogue, boundless energy And the muscles that swathe him compel me to run my Hot hands over him in some spell-binding fascination; the awful power of him that sleeps at my hearth; I touch Him with a prayer – do not hurt me, do not deliver all that you are; do not become all that you wish for.
You speak of Pit Bulls, I lie and obscure I quote and yarn, quarrelsome & querulous, deny Your truths, the weeping wounded & the broken bodies, I speak of mixed breeds, curs & mongrels, chained brutes Of no good measure & made for violence, kicked & cursed, Ignored & used, a thousand names for the abused, any Name that leaches into the ether & forms on my lips I will use; and failing that I will consort with hordes Of my own kind with their own canine Lords, and Together we will form a wall of fury to wipe away The blood & the questions, 'til truth be smothered Under tons of Pit Bull dog flesh, & all their Lovers.