Stanley was standing
off in the distance
and notwithstanding
my whistling insistence
he showed a deal of dogged resistance
stopping where he was
and I saw it was because
he was furiously snacking
on something
compelling
he’d found in the grass
and I hated to think what that something was
so I hurried over
and as I got closer
lost my composure
because what I saw was grosser
than anything you’d see on a horror film poster:
a particularly ripe and reeky rabbit
a deceased easter bunny with a belly full o’maggit
absolutely gross
an ex bugs’ bunny th-th-th-that’s all folks
one decidedly final dose
of goodnight bright eyes adios
I won’t water shit down:
this rotten ol’cottontail was pound for pound
the most hideous dinner a dog ever found
and suddenly hey presto
he’s tucking in with gusto
all fright, al fresco
abracadaver
doggy mind over dodgy matter

who the hell knows
why a dog with a nose
so super-sensitive
would think
such a stink
was representative
of the finest feast a dog could eat?
a canine Michelin, three star treat?

and it makes you feel a bit of a lummox
buying dog food for sensitive stomachs
when he dines like a fiend with a dirty habit
on a rotten ol’pile of rancid rabbit?