Those poodles from hell
Although I am looking down the primrose path,
I seem to be bleeding,
As there’s nothing I can do about it now
I will attempt to keep the poodles from hell at bay!
They nip at my ankles,
Their bouffant cut fur tickles my calves,
As they yap, yap, yap in their wheedling little voices,
Insinuating themselves into my dreams and nightmares,
The sound of their little tinny barks
Become distorted by the space/time continuum
As they fall down into the pit, why, why, whine…
Those poodles from hell.
.
H.H. … ever
.
