Hell (Has A Gate) Poem by GRANT FRASER

My God!
the dog thinks
I am the Devil!

And so he snarls
all vicious teeth,
the hound from hell,
bit me recently as well,

Didn't quite get
through the jacket,
but left some bruised
imprints along my arm,

Now I look for him
all the time - fretting,

What if he gets loose,
or they're not with him...

Satan, that's what
they actually call him,

And who am i,
i f I'm not worthy
for all the canines
from Hell...

I mean If I could
tell him in doggy fashion,
that my jacket is in fact -
Blood red!

And that I am not prey
to this colour affliction,
Nor am i a Torayadour,

But the owner
recently said:

'Well Satan is actually
unpreditable! '
and one can't really tell
what he's going to do.
can act funny?

And I laughing all the while,

thinking about all those
who eventually get savaged,

But he's a man's best friend,
or maybe even a woman's...

yet some are actually twisted
by something else,

to make emends,
for those locked
behind gates & private mores...