the jogger

It’s day again 5 am
He rises by instinct and picks up his load.
He does not need to change
His clothes are the same (he needs no more).

His journey begins at Johnson’s square
He trots, past the broken beer bottles
past the blood of battered souls,
souls he knew just yesterday.

He quickens his trot; on he goes, on and on
He smells the air, the sweet morning air
and leaps! up! Up and up again.
He grasps his load firmly - both jaws needed.

Running, he past all the shops
all the bars;The city sleeps
he is free, free to run
the gate! no one can stop him now.

The street empty the sun is new
at last the end;he drops his load
all the paper all the bone
he's heading home, it’s a doggy dog world.