What You Ought To Be Taught

You whimper, a kicked dog
but refuse to stay
instead playing dead at my feet.
I could help you

if only you would
bare your throat
to bear my collar.

The mewling
isn’t warranted, you know.
I’ve never raised a hand to you
because you don’t want
that sort of petting.

So you say.

A pity.

Should I believe
your bark, then?
Or should I believe
the puppy eyes turned my way
whenever you’re tongue-lolling
for a morsel of affection?

Down boy.

Heel.

Stay.

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About Catastrophe Jones

Wretched word-goblin with enough interests that they're not particularly awesome at any of them. Terrible self-esteem and yet prone to hilarious bouts of hubris. Full of the worst flavors of self-awareness. Owns far too many craft supplies. Will sing to you at the slightest provocation.
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2 Responses to What You Ought To Be Taught

  1. Trent Lewin says:

    I abruptly feel like I want to be a dog.

Go ahead -- say something. Anything.

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