Stray on a Short Bus

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Unleashed…four legged locomotive…loose about town.

Having a bit of a breakdown…while dreaming of creepy clowns.

A renegade of suspicious, superstitions.

Cruising at high speed…without keys in the ignition.

Never cried over Momma’s spilled milk.

Promises of lies without the guilt.


But, honey, dear, this is how it is…

when you live with a forest of chaos…no longer pining for the trees.

A collection of black cats for my coven.

I always leave headroom for two…in my easy bake oven.


Nothing can replace, my tomboy dog, fast tracking anything that moves.

She ain’t got much rhythm…

But pocket dogs beware…when she’s in the groove.


Passerby’s claim she just don’t seem right.

Yet, that hound has licked more sense than a handful of

small-town bad chances…

on a dreary Saturday night.


Unadoptable… I guess, that is what you’d call us.

Strays on the ‘bite me’ short bus.

No taming this shrew, undomesticated four pawed dust.

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