Dogcatcher - Elliot Moss

My window’s full of bricks

That spoil sun and sound

My face pressed against the glass

See the dogcatcher walk the grounds

Run boy, run boy

Get lost before you’re found

I can’t eat another sirloin or chuck

They bring home from the pound

He lives on

Dotted lines drawn softly on your skin

Blood clean from her hands

Breast in the sink

Timing meat so red it still barks

Some nights I plan my escape

To islands

With fourteen hour days

To islands hidden in some whitish haze

Beaches home to dead-end strays

My window’s full of bricks

That spoil sun and sound

My face pressed against the glass

I see dogcatchers all around

I see dogcatchers all around

I see dogcatchers all around

Run boy, run boy

Get lost before you’re found

I cannot eat another friend or foe

They’ll cut you at the pound

They’ll cut you at the pound

They’ll cut you at the pound