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A simple recipe for happinessTo Justin Wilson's previous piece

A lot of dogs

the dogs offer nothing
of an intimidating bark
as I enter the empty lot
of orange soju tents 
vacant behind dripping flaps
they do as they do
thinking they have 
something to protect
the corner shack that is their home
a few boards of haphazard construction
bowls before them
with empty stomachs
not being satisfied 
by what the drizzel doles out
to any old beggar
even to those whose mangy coat 
could now care less
having already drank its fill 
the one who knows
something the others don't
sits quiet and alone
eyes revealing hopeless longing 
to see a better lot in life
no longer under the meager 
shelter of rusty siding

his poignant stares are
unbroken by cold shivers
while the others expend 
valuable energy
blindly protecting 
all they are aware of

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