When I was sixteen 
I helped train hunting 
dogs in the scorching 
heat of the flatlands 
of South Dakota the
land is so flat 
that I was certain 
that the far off
horizon was one step 
away from the edge 
of the world hunting 
dogs aren’t treated kindly 
certainly not like a
family dog oh no 
they are bred for purpose 
a very specific purpose 
and like soldiers they 
do their jobs precisely 
I was terrible at 
training these hunting dogs 
sleeping with them within 
an arms reach of 
their three foot chain 
One morning the training
master found me there
he said let them 
dogs be they have 
purpose and don’t need 
no friendly reminder that 
they’re anything but that
and that was the 
day that I decided 
that I’d do anything 
to never ever be 
just considered on purpose 
yet it does kind 
of sound like capitalism