Like an alley dog in the rain
i lay here lazy and sleepy
with no reason to bark or howl,
no reason to hide from the raindrops,
for living has no reason at all.
My soul is an alley dog in his shelter,
looking at the main street with a calm hate
and resignation and disappointment,
but not without a sense of hope.
A little, useless sense of animal hope.
My eyes are the eyes of an alley dog.
