This Poem’s Not About a Dog

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This poem’s not about a dog.
It’s not about a cat.
It’s not about a fish or frog
or anything like that.

It’s also not about my shoe,
or cows from outer space,
or purple pigs from Timbuktu,
or weasels on your face.

This poem’s not the slightest bit
about some guy named Fred.
There are no robot ducks in it,
or hippos overhead.

It’s not about electric sheep,
or eighty-five times nine,
or watching grandpa fall asleep,
or cheese from Lichtenstein.

It’s not about a hungry hog
who ate a bowling ball.
This poem’s not about a dog,
or anything at all.