The Black Dog

Along the road of contrary
Paving slabs move under me
Marks of words left
Scattered etching
From minds with little room for stretching

Acid bath
Or intravenous

Repress to impress the hive

Boil oil on the silver wear
Wishing for death’s delight

The black dog is coming
He has taken your scent tonight
Do you run for your life
Or turn to defend it?

Either is pleasing
At least for a while
But time will run out
Either way in the mire

Both are succeeding
From both points of view
I’ll be something first
Before being subdued


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