Friday, September 13, 2013

Justice Mule inspires again

I'm the ghost of that dog,

yeah, me, you musta seen me

inna battle, a dustup Supremo

a contest of skill and noble bravado

It went down like this and I modestly say

I was seekin immorality that dark grungy day

an I was swaggerin round town like the gangsta I be

when I spied me a horse kinda curiosity

who looked nice and tender, all offered for me

a feast for da eyes and a treat for da teeth

and so I did wait till the challenge was met

and flew with my jaws like a toothed lunatic

and lost my grip to tease the hapless brute

and saw his eyes, who knew the truth

that I would win, in leisurely dispatch

and swagger away without even no rash

when next I knew, in his teeth was me

and flung like moldy old laundry

and then that brute on my ribs went a-joggin

and put many more dents in my big fearsome noggin

and swirled me round inna slithery puddles

his brain it weren't right, his thinking was muddled

cause where was the blood, the gore, and defeat

where was the pile of hair and torn meat?

i have pride in my work, I think it appalling

that a horsey-type thing on my body keeps falling

the creature played dirty, I'll teach it a lesson

finish what them start, then goes for my blessin'

it all a flesh wound, it barely a test

lemme up coward, I'll grip shut your last breath

but now the light's murky, the pavement seems soft

they will holler my praises, they'll send them aloft

they'll come to my shrine, a nice shiny hollow

where a hopeless horse-thing did steal my tomorrow

and left a fine dog-print in the bloody wet brick

a warning sign to lesser dogs

to best not lunge to bite so quick.





Post a Comment