When the Dogs Bite

Sunday, 15 February 2026

15th February 2026

intrigue thickens

in the custard of the plotting

novel trifle

Definitely not about Her

"I fucked a Transgirl once," she said when asked

why she was so against the rights of folk

who do not choose what sex they are inside

their pleas for intervention not a joke.

"And though Portuguese this woman's seed

gave me a daughter whom I took away

lest she be corrupted by their gender creed

and, God Forbid, maybe turn out gay.

"So my campaign to stop the gender-bend

of those who might deny that God was right

to give them dicks at birth is just. I'll pretend

I didn't want to be a man and smoke cigars at night.

"That steep rise in transteen mortality?

it really has got naught to do with me."

Saturday, 14 February 2026

14th February 2026

sunshine

Lupercalia runners

bloodied backs

After the Pound

send my love to those live in loneliness

and those who toil in slaver's pits

and Elon's data centres under stress,

starving to work for billionaire shits.

Take with thee my wildest hopes and dreams

for revolution, when the poor and undertrod

declare 'no more' and dance to all the screams

of old white men and stuff their bones beneath the sod.

Go now; take thy vengeance with thy sharp

and righteous blade and tear away the old

entitlement where those who pluck the harp

of wealth wield laws against the hungered cold.

Cut away these rotted limbs of history

share out the earthen bounty and be free.

Friday, 13 February 2026

13th February 2026

bitter winds

cutting short the dog walk

discarded bottles

Mystery Meat

Cutting meat and fat from butcher's bones

neither use nor ornament and given free

by Kenneth at the Funeral Home

my mother, frugal lived as frugal be.

Then loaded in the mincing mill

pressed down hard with splintered ends of shin

and thigh and rounded end of arm until

the stoneware bowl beneath was filled to brim.

And then from out the garden was brought forth

potatoes carrots, parsnips and a mound

of peas and bean for shelling by the kitchen door

held ever open 'til the night came down.

A shepherds pie for tea, the gristly meat

an evening meal after the sunshine's swift retreat.

Thursday, 12 February 2026

12th February 2026

howling winds

closing all the shutters

terrified pup

shutters locked tight

allow a glimmer of daylight

the cat careens across the floor

chasing a dried and empty tea bag;

more Lady Orange than Lady Grey.

The Handsome Old Dude snores softly

while the young pup wanders

claws clicking across the floorboards

anxious and upset.

Rain spatters on skylights

shy lights

hidden from the sun.

awake, mon amours, awake

for I do love thee dearly.

Wednesday, 11 February 2026

11th February 2026

bedside lounging

the curve of a cheek

softly kissed

What new Hell hath this company unleashed

where even humble pigeons turn to war

while weaponised with Big Tech's long-armed reach

their brains wired with a cybernetic core.

Equipped with cams and solar-powered cells

their wheel and flight mechanic drones can't match

airborne spies that ring dissonant bells

incendiaries the snipers cannot catch.

And further applications now explored

cockroach cameras exploring underground

while larger mammals' skulls are drilled and bored

stray dogs wired makes hidden soldiers found.

How soon before these hacks include VR

Teens controlling soldiers from afar?

Russian Start-up

Tuesday, 10 February 2026

10th February 2026

sudden curls

after walking at dawn

French rain

'If you want to change the world, go home and love your family.’

Ghandi

Kate told her bloke to stop being a dickhead

and she could easily have said the same

to me before I ever got to shed

the shitty social ethics of the game.

'Tis ot until you've been the bitter butt

of vile jibes and insults meant to wound

and followed on as every door is shut

for fear of thine unclean status groomed.

And as the world of politics comes crashing

to a halt when Joe fins out the farces

that rich men are all paedophiles just lashing

silly sums of cash inside each other's arses

More injustice follows as our rights are stricken down

and all the world licks semen from the fatted orange clown.

Monday, 9 February 2026

9th February 2026

sleepy kitten

demanding attention

dogs waiting

This pollarded stump may dream of lofty height

for in its roots dwells still a mighty soul

that burrows through the stone with ancient right

to reach an all-due majesty above these plains of boule.

I know not of what fruit thou brings to bear

when spring will coax thy freshest stems to shoot

and summons forth thy fragrance to the air

for bees to gather nectar from thy fruit.

This region of the French Dordogne is known

for grapes to make the wine of days long passed

but thou art cut too tall for summer's vine

and suspect that thou bring forth plums at last.

For now in winter's slumber doth thou rest

and I'll return ere autumn time to test.