Circles

“I almost got it!” thought the dog

But then it got away

“If I run faster” reasoned he

“I’ll catch it--yes I may!”

So round and round he chased his tail

And so he spent his days

Each time he nipped he felt a pain

It drove him near insane

Then tired and worn while panting swore

“That crazy S.O.B.”

“There’s something smells about this tail--

It a conspiracy!”

His anger swelled as he jumped up

“I’ll try the other way”

His quest turned to obsession then

Instead of foolish play

The poor dog never found himself

Nor satisfied his needs

And so resumed his second love

To scratching at his fleas