Elliot Moss Dogcatcher
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