My nephew has given me permission to share this brilliant poem he wrote a couple years ago. He wants a per cent of any profits involved. I didn't dare tell him that there is no money in poetry, even very fine poetry like this.
I am a bad dog.
My gas makes a fatal fog.
I once stole my master's new car.
I drove 120 mph into a bar.
I drink martinis with the baby.
My behavior couldn't be worse if I had rabies.
I once watched a NASCAR race.
I bit a racer there in the face.
In one day, I stole a steak
And throw a car into a rake.
If you think I'm going to the pound
You're wrong! Cause i am one bad hound.