October’s feeling a bit
Like February today
Park-dwellers huddled
In the sun they so lately
Forsook, a London Plane
Tree decorating the lawn
With its leaves, tonight
Vice-Presidents debate
Sitting down because
One of them resembles
A troll, we all cough
As a dog is suffocating
The air with the surplus
Of his golden brown coat
His owner brushing it
Into the now blustery
Morning wind, asshole
That he is, noon light
Penetrating the boughs
I have places to be
But not much to do
Before I reach them
My vile olive pants
Refusing to look good
With my blue shoes
It takes such Negative
Capability, as Brenda
Coultas said, to hold
These vastly opposite
Americas in mind, we
Are positively cowed
By the gaping crevice
In our midst, any dim
Ray of real empathy
Brusquely throttled
By fear, time to live
In the crevice thinks
I, to make our camp
Among the ricochet
Of words, now here
I go again getting all
Grandiose and worked
Up and ruining a few
Perfectly readable
Sentiments about dogs
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