art enabled
Am I alone on my phone
Need not give a dog a bone
Never to see him again
On the mean streets that he hones
Need I simply pretend
Like some holy Godsend
That I fend and contend
While I build a legend
Searching the streets
For those little dog treats
Where is the vibe
Should I just go run, hide
Or should I be snide
Try wait for high tide
When all of the boats rise
The great and the small
Where the despised go to die
And the able of craft
Still can abide
Bend to the ways
Of the salt and sea sprays
Nor sin; nor affray
Unafraid to make waves
And wait for the day
Just wait for payday
Or should I go play
Down alongside the high way
And when the traffic turns north
I could fly south in May
Where is thy love
Should it be rescued by craft
Enabled in art
Tied in a bundle
With a phone and go trundle
A dog at my side
Filled with glee
Feed him treats
With her only glass slipper
To complete our proud clipper
Shipped off where summer sets
On hope street and high
