Number Two

For my second blog post, something different. A poem/petition dedicated to the otherwise lovely dog-walkers in Bialik Square, and intended to address a serious problem that Tel Aviv’s sidewalks face.

There is a plague in this fair town: its shape amorphic, colour brown,
Seen only upon looking down toward a soiled shoe.
So in attempt to be persuasive, good Canuck and uninvasive,
Here I share what’s been abrasive in this piece to you.

And as I have above alluded, on my soles I’ve found intruded
Something that your dog extruded as it strolled la rue.
Whereas you’ve chosen not to care that your dog drew three circles there,
And that the bull’s-eye he hit square with arrow number two.

Whereas your leashless dog explored beyond the scope your eyes afford
And there did business untoward, his manners he’d eschew.
Whereas this could have been prevented, if your eyes had been cemented
When his derrière presented matter for the loo.

Therefore I do present this plea: if a dog-walk you do foresee
please bring a bag and leash with ye, be sure to use them too.
And those of you who are effective, stoop and scoop without invective,
Better serve the whole collective, thanks go out to you.

Update:
My friend, Eric Yudin, issued the following brilliant response:

Your post ass-umes of these mankind
That when out’house they’re simply blind
of stealthy construction of Fido’s shrine
with bricks of that which he hath dined.

I beg to differ, my fellow whiffer,
that guilty are the little sniffers,
but rather the masters, who, thinking they’re sleek,
and that poo shrine demolition is for the meek,
are quite aware,
but,
turn the other cheek.