In airport, dog barks, good dog,
barks twice, some silence, security stands
strong, then dog barks three times.
I want to fly with the dog, to be loved
for the entire flight, and I would show that
dog that is he is the most loved being
on earth, but he is meant to stand, do his
work, stop the drug runners. All I want is
his freedom, but you can’t rescue a dog in the
airport; it’s too stilted; the plane’s full.
We can’t steal food forever, so I ride
with the mean humans with no drugs,
and dream about barks of freedom.