Ernie won't bite

I walked in Draper Park Saw a family at a table, heard a dog bark "Ernie's friendly," said the Mommy, "he won't bite" A large goofy dog came at me, seemed alright. Ernie growled, maybe because I smelled of beer Or maybe because I didn't let him sniff my rear But in Ernie's genes, a wolf pack in the night from pet to threat, he transformed in plain sight I sprinted to my car, I could read Ernie's mind But Ernie wasn't far behind Like a cheetah on the chase, he covered the ground Ernie became Cerberus of Hades, that mythical hound I made it to the car, Ernie's owner looked aghast She said "he can sense personality; did you have a criminal past? I said "I volunteer at homeless shelters; I clean up hikers' trails I donate to museums, never been in any jails." The lady still looked at me as if I was to blame Maybe people aren't rational, don't want to feel shame It got me thinking, maybe all I've believed ain't true Ernie really bites, maybe 4 ain't 2 and 2? The told me in kindergarten that we can be any gender And if we say we're not racist, we must be a pretender Under Hamas rule, they assured, Palestine will be free And under Kamala rule, we'll still have an economy They warned we're in a patriarchy and must see the light. Can I be sure that's all true, and that Ernie won't bite? So now I live off the grid, on a houseboat, I read what the great philosophers wrote I prefer quiet waves, the seashore light I left humans behind, because I got such a fright The day that I found out that Ernie does bite.