A Dangerous Breed

There’s a kind of dog--a dangerous breed
They gather in packs for to drink and to feed.
They preen and posture to show who’s on top
At the trendiest restaurants and coffee shops.

They know the signs of belonging to the tribe
The clothes that you wear and the car that you drive
the shows that you watch and how your hair is cut
and the way that you smell when they sniff at your butt.

They wag their tail and lick at your face
But turn your back and they’ll move into your space
They’ll pretend that they like you till a younger bitch comes by
Then you’re off in the wasteland, left alone to die.

So here’s some advice—a word to the wise
Kiss up to the alpha dog but watch his shifty eyes.
Don’t trust the dog called human, tho he’s smiling at you
How do I know this? I’m one of them too.

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