I sit, staring at the dog
Trying to reduce it to mere verses
That will fill the lines of my page.
But the languid creature
Food is the only thing
That invigorates this maladroit mammal.
Great blobs of fat spill over all sides
Of its body,
Concealing it’s undiscovered beauty.
The animal sleeps on
As a pool of drool congeals by his mouth.