Watchdogs

To the old men,
the Lords of the Hellhounds,
holder of duty
and decency,
accountability.
Greedy mutts;
the fattest sheep
they rip apart
out of the herd.
We all have our psychoses.
you can hide them
under coats and hats
and mantle; layer over layer
The old dog owners know that
the answer to all questions:
Decency, responsibility, and if you don’t seek them
they’re chasing them after you.
and pack that up as “adulthood”.
It’s no wonder the snoopers
tear you to shreds
if they catch you.
When you trill the whistle for too long
and the shrill sound
costs them their minds.
Freedom is the paradox
that they hunt
get crushed by them like minced meat
when they smell the drug
on you,
that turns men into babbling children
and robs women of their empathy.
In freedom, ambitious
No-nuts are born,
Everybody just seems to
want a spark of
control.