Sochi Scraps

Sochi Scraps by Odin Roark Among my pen’s rifling Hunting its own needs His imagined snout moves across the page Seeking out beggary nourishment A shantytown of doghouses Provided by an animal-sensitive philanthropist Fills rapidly with the rush to save Before pest contractors execute the kill Collecting their bounty hunter payouts So goes the life of a stray Asking but little A few morsels for staying alive Needing but a simple discovery Akin to a poet’s oft times Elusive syllabic frustration I stare at the foraging effort The ink beginning to fill the paper Becoming my mixed plate of empathy Abandoned animals can never know In Olympic Village Concerned over terrorist threat Wishing only to stay alive But another day Many passersby remain homeless-dog indifferent Unaware the poison darts Continue seeking canine nomads My eyes become blurred My stylus pauses I stare at the wall Imagining Sochi Or perhaps some other Abandoned-dog city Places I’ve never been Save by make-believe Ink upon paper Yet The howl The whine The cry of a frightened animal Once heard Is never forgotten… Save by profiteer-butchers of Sochi