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I Talk To My Dogs (A Trilogy)
I talk to my dogs…
I smoke bongs…
I drink beer…
I watch footy…
The season is over but
I’m drinking the milk…
Aus V Ire… 1st test.
This is half-time entertainment.
It’s Friday night but it could be
Any night…
The only difference is I don’t have to
Continuously slam the snooze button
Tomorrow morning.
One more week and I’m a tester…
Having the perfectly suitable personality,
I shall excel…
I get to follow strict guide lines,
Tight schedules,
Design rules and
Test instructions…
Definitely me, don’t you think?
My dogs don’t talk back…
They sleep in my bed…
They wag their tails,
When I look at them
And smile…
Or they get nervous,
From the weird sounds
Of my music collection.
“Who’s that!?”
“What’s that!?”
I giggle to myself.
I feel sorry for them.
I feel guilty.
I resume dreaming about that self-sufficient,
Mountain retreat,
With acres of land
For them to play around in…
And ponder wether I will last
The journey there
As a test/design engineer.
“10 years!”
Said the judge…
And the authorities led me away…
My dogs are back on the bed…
I’m back on trance…
And the promise of hack
Is starting to seep through
My attention span
Has forsaken me
Yet again…
