A kakistocracy of running dogs
Inhales each others’ residue of stool.
He-Dog licks himself and flairs the wind:
From which direction does the incense blow?
Points east! Thence trails a poony redolence —
Salukis knot in those curvaceous dunes!

What’s this? Another piece of turf wafts reek:
Serbia, the Stans and Saxony
All doggy-moon the mussolini beak.
But Man-Chow über alles takes the crown,
Lifts leg on everything that he surveils.
He tenders his backside to He-Dog’s snout
And grants sir mutt a whiff of Xi-man clout.

(c) 2026 JMN — EthicalDative. All rights reserved