POEM - Way Too Many Puppies

My desk at home is in a great spot

It sits up against a door

That has no practical purpose

But is equipped with windows

That look out on the porch

I can also see a section of the front yard

Spring has begun to move in

Things are getting green, renewed

All the world growing

This seems pleasant at first

Until I realize what is growing

I expect flowers and leaves and grass

What I get is dogs

All kinds of dogs

Every variety imaginable

Many of them constructed badly

Of multiple other dogs mashed together

I sit back and see them

First two or three

Then four, then eight

Then I lose count

Pretty soon my front lawn is replaced

I could literally walk from door to road

Touching nothing but canine

Then I hear a ruckus grow from below

I know what has happened

The mongrel hoard has begun to sprout

In the darkness of the crawlspace

It starts quietly then grows

A cacophony of baying and howling

As if to shake the foundations of my home

Then the foundations do shake

And lift and move and shuffle

As I am suddenly transported willy-nilly

Hither and yawn at the mercy of the mutts

I run for the door, grab my coat

Grab my wife and kids

Make a dash for the back door

To escape our home and surrender

There are just way too many puppies

And this place has gone to the dogs