The dog I raised.... (ዘእበኽዎ ኽልቢ ነኺሱኒ)

Temesgn Kebede

12-25-18

 

It was a sort of an abattoir -

But an open space

With no gadgets in use

To process the byproducts,

Forced-meats, marrows or ligaments

For induced appetites

And profits for a market -

Bovines were slaughtered

Only for their comestibles meat

Among stakeholders to be shared.

The rest was left scattered

For those on tree tops

Perched with intent

To swoop down

And sweep the remaining contents,

The butchers willfully abandoned.

It was here, on my way back home

After an eventless roam,

I noticed a stray Puppy dog

Following me all along.

 

Upon home arrival

I looked back final

And closed the gate as usual.

 

But the next daylight.

The canine was still sitting tight,

At the same site,

I left him the other night.

 

I then let it in to respite,

Realizing its plight

 

And there on, no need to prove

It became turtledove,

Household member

Hand and glove.

Until one day It eloped

With a nearby millionaire’s

Rutting dog.

 

Upon returning home

The dog I raised

Bit me off nearly to death,

Sever the entire fingers

In unrestrained anger,

For wasting its life

In a poor-man’s shelter.

 

Profuse blood gashed out

And as I staggered,

Unable to shout

Seeking support,

I saw a python slither

Down the attics to the stairs.

Gob smacked I stood and stared

Hard to believe what had transpired.

Little did I know I had uninvited resident.

To scale down exigently unhesitant.

 

Then the serpent coiled round my arm

And engorged the severed hand to my alarm!

Terrified by the ensuing events,

Concurrently I fainted,

More to do with the mind state

Than the damage inflicted

That led me hallucinate.

 

Past the clock,

When someone did knock

From a deep sleep,

Up then I woke,

And saw a bloke,

My own son it looked,

Yielding a long knife

To tear off the python alive -

Sidewise.

Unaware he was

Who the real threat did pose.

 

But I shouted: Stop! Stop!!

And the son froze,

The knife dropped.

 

It was the Ophidian,

We do not see eye to eye

That deployed a master plan,

With the techniques it knows how,

It staunched the blood flow

And maintained the severed hand’s

Heat aglow.

Using its mouth hot-air blow.

Indeed, hallucinate I did not,

As I wanted to believe

Indeed The ophidian I mistrust

Came to my rescue at last!

 

As wise men would say

Worry not of those distant away

But the ones who rub shoulders,

The myrmidons, yea-sayer

Who would dare?

Push you down the precipices

To break your pelvises

When you are no longer of services.