Byatch, better have my wake up.
Because my lips are chitter chatterin'
I got it real bad with diahrea
the dry heaves and these junkie shakes.
I'm out of time in the serving line
at this daily grind
dialed in direct
on skiddly pow row
Splayed out in my sopping wet pup tent,
Ticked in under an overhang
at the trusty freeway underpass.
My shivers and sweats are suddenly interuppted by
primordial pangs of hunger,
My reptilian brain on a mission to consume meat
and any nutrititve mush,of sweet fruits, and berries.
I'm not yet broken though, battered,
the bone dry water spigot scratching post,
is my momentary but, trusy distraction from
this million mile march
culminating at the summit of
an impossible itch
..,
I'm freaked but not tweakin'
Since, I cant find my dog..
What kind of hoo hoe
would run off with him
My long time running companion
I'm the only familiar face he's ever woken up to.
.Furry friend, fast find your way home.
Who could have run away
with my canine blood brother?
Since he's gone, I've been jonesin' hard from this nightmarish charade..
Maybe last night when I nodded off to sleep
he was fed some leftovers
when he squealed and squeaked
they feared he was starving, lost and alone
We've been through hell together,
on these mean streets
our home.
where me and my Rott brother
protect one another
So, I must find him
as he must find me.
Jeepers creepers, there sure are alot of tweakers
slinking off with
acquisitions they don't need.
To walk away with my loyal and faithful
four legged companion.,
like they were stealing away with some cheap, girly magazine.
Whatever went down last night
It's now a bleak, black and blue morning
My eyes feel heavy and burn from the light.
Until my dog brother
Finds his way back home to me
Byatch, better have my wake up
All publishing rights, copyright and editing rights reserved, as is, by this author
Re-Edited 12/21/2023 @ 9:10 PM Pacific Standard Time