Dog Play

I'm a disorder scholar, but my autos haven't 
Didacted the route to stochastic inspiration
With a piece of wood, a scent-on-the-mint,
A T in waiting, bone or no; that's where I've
Got a lotta learning to never rue as it passes 
Through the wide tunnel, digestive passage,
And rakes the cat shit out of the leavings,
Teeth first feast and a side of stubborn
Indignance, paired with a flop eared 
Unsmiling unsparing eating machine.

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