On the Beat With Ollie
Red and blue strobes bounce off walls
pulsing beats in arterial veins of the city.
Radio voices crackle like static in the night,
overshadows savage growls.
Police K-Nine, Ollie, fastens the wide-eyed
man in her prow.
Hackles rise from scruff of
muscled neck down her rippling spine.
Sharp fangs glisten white under the
flickering glow of a street lamp.
Lips snarl with foaming snaps of snout,
ears flatten to a muscled head,
brown shepherd-eyes simmer in
muggy sweat beneath the churning
clouds of July.
A taunt, bristling beast
seethes with electric rage
focused on the color-drained
face of the male anarchist
crumpled with bowel-soiled pants.
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