Since few minutes and Doggy seems having something to declare but hesitating. Encouraged intensely and repeatedly he declared timidly that he wrote a poem and wants to say it. We agreed. Doggy jumped over the closet and brought the fan that he ADORES running it on the fast mode and goes AaAaAaAaAa, vocalizing whatever in front of it.
And here he goes with his poem:
"Follow the hotdog,
In a street of fog,
Listening to the wind of change….
Hunger at midnight,
Don't merit a fight,
Listening to the wind, of change…."
"The fridge is closing in,
Did you ever think,
That hotdogs in the frost,
The smell's in the air,
I can feel it everywhere
Blowing in the wind of change"
Doggy stopped uttering his golden words and headed to the lavatory and blew his nose hard several times in the warm water emitting a lovable gurgling sound and came walking back slow and calm, like a widower king, to the bed room where the effervescent Vitamin C capsule is still bubbling in his cold glass of water while the ex-communist is still wearing red in the CNN, but now, more modern and beautiful than she was in the 1970s:
They say she like the poor, the dogs, and Proust. Doggy had already dealt with poverty but Proust? What for? For the search for the time, that is lost? Anyway. We managed to convince Doggy to get rid of the fan idea and complete his poem without it especially after the running nose incident:
"Walking down the street
How much I have pissed,
On this tree
Follow me to that park
Where I can ran and bark,
Listening to the wind of change".
While Dilma is promising to manage poverty in Brazil, we managed to find something, in this cold white fridge, for the doggy to eat, temporarily. The gurgling and the bubbling symphony started. He raised his head and said: "complete the original poem from the scorpions" he took another bite from his dish and added: "as they have already retired from biting":