Poetry & Prose


Two men sat facing each other at a table outside of a taquería, drinking beer. The first man was watching two emaciated dogs fight behind the second.

“I might lose my job again, soon,” the second man said.

“Why?” asked the first man.

“Low output,” he growled. More and more of these educated dorks applying every year. I’m a goddamn liability in their eyes!”

“What will you do?”

“Nothing. At 49 I am what I am.”

The dogs began barking louder behind him, and soon a third one joined in, howling and gnashing. One of them began to shit and all of them bled, and while they were rolling around violently in their collective filth a fourth dog approached them, yapping.

“Well,” the first man said, “You could go back to school.”

The second man grit his teeth and then said, “Nah. I have no money or ambition. And why have either? There’s always somebody smarter, bigger, faster, better in this world. Jesus, it’s hard enough to breathe around all these people!”

“Yep. Gotta keep on your toes,” slurred the first man.

“I’m just too damn tired.”

The fourth dog continued snapping at the frenzy of three, and suddenly they broke away from each other to chase it down. They ran until all four crashed straight into the legs of the second man’s chair and he fell backwards on top of them, spilling his beer everywhere.

“Goddamnit! These mangy fucking dogs!” he snarled from the floor. “Somebody cut their balls off already, they’re everywhere!  Where the fuck do they all come from?”

As he maneuvered to lift himself up, the dogs resumed fighting, and he fell to the floor once again.

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