Swans Commentary » swans.com August 27, 2007  



Don't Bite The Dog Please


by Peter Byrne





(Swans - August 27, 2007)  

He:  It changed everything.

She:  This isn't the first time you fell off your diet.

He:  Who's counting a couple of pounds more or less with the nation in peril?

She:  It's a couple of pounds more, not less.

He:  We're all in harm's way. You heard the prez.

She:  I heard him. Is Harm's Way some kind of main street where he lives?

He:  You wouldn't be able to joke like that if he didn't have that Homeland Corporation protecting you.

She:  I also notice we buy twice as much beer since the terrorists hit Weight Watchers.

He:  It's stress thirst. We're keyed up. It's natural.

She:  Water's natural.

He:  It was like that in the army. The guys would punch a can together and sing a chorus of frig the slants in pajamas.

She:  Now they have therapists.

He:  We were tough. Not that there weren't some wimps around then too.

She:  That was in San Diego?

He:  Yes siree. We were rarin' to go.

She:  You were lucky the boat never sailed.

He:  That wasn't luck. Washington got nervous and declared victory.

She:  All the same, I married a veteran.

He:  We all shared the pain.

She:  And the stress and the thirst.

He:  It took a lot out of us.

She:  Wasn't San Diego where you got the clap?

He:  A touch, a touch. My resistance was low. I was under the weather.

She:  Maybe you had pre-traumatic stress disorder.

He:  Cut it out. We had good normal stress in those days.

She:  And thirst.

He:  Like he said and I told you, nothing is the same after this thing.

She:  I hear you and your buddy the Decider when he manages to get the words out. But otherwise I'd not have noticed.

He:  Wake up woman. They came after us in our homes. You saw it on TV.

She:  Sure. But I changed channels and tidied up the cushions on the sofa.

He:  You have no sense of history. There's a before and after, B.C. and A.D.

She:  Why bring Him into it for crisake?

He:  A manner of speaking. You're in denial.

She:  That's not my manner of speaking.

He:  It's them or us.

She:  The comedians in turbans?

He:  The fanatics with blood on their hands.

She:  So you want me to jump in and swim in it? Your big bang's not going to change me one way or another.

He:  Irresponsible. We're going to take a global view around here from now on.

She:  We switching to German beer?

He:  For one thing you're not walking the dog on your own anymore.

She:  The pooch has had his own little traumas. He sure as hell can't walk me.

He:  You have to understand. It's not safe out there any longer.

She:  It's true his bark sounds like a smoker's cough these days.

He:  You don't want to understand, do you? Folks, this is what denial leads to.

She:  I admit he's dozy.

He:  Dozy? That pooch is supposed to defend you and he's already done a peace deal with his fleas.

She:  Nobody's getting any younger.

He:  Right, and you've got a toothless guard dog.

She:  Odd isn't it that he can still handle a pizza?

He:  That's jaw movement. He's still got two jaws.

She:  I suppose that even two wouldn't mean much to a terrorist.

He:  A terrorist is hard. He can gulp down that bible of theirs without pictures.

She:  Still, in the dark, to have that pizza crunch on his leg might panic him.

He:  A coughing dog would hardly disable a terrorist. Surprise him, maybe. But who wants to surprise those guys? They get jumpy and set themselves off. Boom!

She:  You're saying we're looking for another guard dog?

He:  That would be the responsible thing to do. The real article, big, very big, with a lot of sharp teeth and a bark like a shotgun.

She:  A wolf?

He:  The contrary of the pooch.

She:  Would he live with us? I mean inside the house?

He:  Maybe a doghouse would be in order.

She:  In the flowerbed? Or a roadblock on the front walk?

He:  We could settle for something basic, no frills.

She:  No tail?

He:  The doghouse. Something simple, ecological, cheap.

She:  One storied with camouflage?

He:  I think we ought to look for an animal with sniffer training.

She:  Most of them have a snout.

He:  I mean a professional sniffer, like you see at the airport. A patriotic dog that won't let drugs or explosives or foreign evil past him.

She:  Would he wear a uniform? This is going to change our lives.

He:  That's exactly what the veep is calling for.

She:  What about the prez?

He:  He's always on message.

She:  Like we said, I feel it would be best to wait till after the election.

He:  Maybe.

She:  You know, not every dog can eat pizza with his jaws.

He:  Bones, dogs are supposed to gnaw bones.

She:  We'll think it over. I'm not denying that on a bad day the pooch might need the two of us to protect him.

He:  As if I haven't got enough responsibilities.

She:  Careful you don't get stress thirst again.

He:  Being under siege wears me out.

She:  Courage, Mon général. Put your dentures in and we'll all three go out on patrol.

He:  Roger.


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Gulag For Critics - Charles Marowitz

Is Life A Set Of Infundibula? - Carol Warner Christen

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Swans -- ISSN: 1554-4915
URL for this work: http://www.swans.com/library/art13/pbyrne43.html
Published August 27, 2007