A women walks a dog who stops to pee,
lifting his leg square in front of me.
I improvise upon a Dylan song:
“If dogs whiz free, why can’t we?”
as I examine involuntarily,
his exposed canine schlong.
My path is blocked, so I have to just stand there
while Fido relieves himself en plein air.
“I’m sorry,” she says, as it keeps on pissing free.
“No problem,” I say, “so far he’s missing me.”
