Big Dog Woofing

A big dog woofing.
Chainsaws running all day.
Me?  I’m not smoking tonight,
too much to do in the morning.

God, sometimes a day
runs you over.  Sometimes
you’re killed almost by it.
That’s big dog’s fault;

gets loud and mean and then
chases the day right out of its yard
and into the street and over us.
Those chainsaws must rile him up —

right here in the city, all that northwoods noise.
Didn’t think there were that many trees here.
The big dog pissed on all of them
and now he can’t tell where his territory is

so he’s woofing and we’re all a little on edge.
Days like this you wanna curl up with a bowl
and fake dead for the daylight hours.  Can’t, 
though; too much to do, and the dog’ll be hunting

bright and early,
and that dog will hunt and bite,
and the day will crush us before he gets to us
if we don’t get a move on.