Hair of the Dog

Distilled spirits
Calm familiar
It’s that first bite

Clear cold and tight

Hair of the dog that bit me
Always pictured that literally, visually

Unhappy Beast
With claws
Tamped down for cause
She detests
She protests
Hurls invective inventive insults
Incompetence abounds
Forced to attend the Stupid Olympics
Wherein everybody loses
When everybody wins, she is not wrong

But is she me?

Written in 2017   Copyright © Catherine G. Tripp