Dogs Runnin Loose in the Bisque

Everyone hates her lover
yet she compels her like no other
Moon and Ocean and Ur are forever
entwined like snakes or reins of leather
and they decide on the weather



Origin centered at zero
the mind of the eight-limbed curse
riding inside like the back of a hearse
collected a huge pile of heroes
still can't tell which is worse


twitching in daytime
her tail indicates the moon
bravehearted kitten
yet another feral one
her nightmare is exposure



his cryptography was practical
his algorithms were tactical
He muttered madly to everyone
"Zero plus or minus one
why that's just wetware hacking, son!"
the first street fighting game theorist
never met his match
he was out of season then
(probability, natch)



Woe betides an unwise bride
an alcoholic's suicide
in a bottle whines get amplified
makes ya weak like a glyburide
burns the throat and damns the hide
but never go back inside
if no longer in a mood to die
that won't stop the coming tide
don't care if it's dignified
won't slack off just because they lied
when they said it would be an easy ride