there was freezing fog
so I got togged up
to take the dog
for a jog
over the woods
(I wanted to say ‘bog’
but although it’s muddy
it’s short on frogs)

so
over my clothes
I pulled a cammo waterproof I chose
because it made me look like one of those
rough n tough commandos
I suppose
the kind of do-or-die
what-the-hell, all-weather guy
who, given the choice, would rather be dry

Stanley watched me, well-rehearsed
his expression that of a lurcher cursed

then lastly I took
my favourite beanie off the hat hook
like some kind of arty identity cook
mixing ingredients from a recipe book
to arrive at the perfectly balanced look

and with my ears nice n’snug
clipped on his lead and gave it a tug

now

I know you think I’m an exaggerator
but barely twenty minutes later
I was gasping hot as an alligator
in an overheated swamp around the equator
(if that’s where you find those toothy perps;
if not I’ll come back and redact the verse)