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Sunday, March 7, 1999
By Paul Ford
A poem about a stinky dog.
by Lucius Callus
Oh that woman Satya got a dog, Lord,
Lord, what's wrong with that dog?
Stink terrible, got the arthritis,
This dog so bad, Lord,
That big strong buzzards vomit when they come near it.
This dog smell so bad,
Makes shit get up off the floor and walk out, Lord.
I seen it with my own eye.
Only got one eye, Lord, but I seen it.
Pile of shit get up, run out the door,
Onto the street, nearly hit by a car.
I seen the buzzards say to the shit,
"Damn, that dog smell awful."
The shit shakes its head lookin' sad.
That's how bad this dog smell.
It smells so bad it makes shit sad.
That woman Satya, she gotta carry the dog up the stairs every day, Lord.
There ain't no holiday where she get to take off, Lord.
Passover you nail a sheep to the door but you still gotta carry that dog up the stairs.
Christmas you worship a tree, but you better pick up that stinky dog.
Ramadan you get hungry all the time. But that dog whining. It gotta go upstairs.
That dog needs a hydrocortisone shot, Lord,
But the doctor ain't comin' near that stinky dog.
Lord, there ain't no way out for Satya.
Her brother Afsal don't help none at all.
She jus' gotta take that stinky dog up the stairs.
Lord, what you gonna do for Satya?
Make that dog stop stinking, Lord.
Jus' Make that dog stop stinking.