The Dog of the World
Sometimes things aren’t right or wrong, they’re
just made out of bees. Bees don’t care if it’s your birthday
or if your grandmother died. They’re just bees, after all. What
the fuck do you expect from them?
There’s a dog at the end of a chain. He’s got it pulled
tight, straining, expecting to bust a link and take off into forever
and happily ever after. Anyhow, the dog is made of bees. (Now we’ve
come full circle.) He’s chained to a fire hydrant outside of an upscale coffee-shop in Chicago. And
not one of the national brands, I’m talking about a local, independent,
small batch roaster who would as soon crap a live hedgehog as to bow
down to
Seattle, Washington.
There’s this dog at the end of the chain, straining, and the
bees are dripping out of his mouth and circling around and then rejoining
the swarm.
The dog doesn’t realize it, but he’s the one who spins
the world under his feet, which in turn creates an orbit around the
sun, which in turn creates the seasons, which allow us to grow crops,
celebrate holidays, and pretty much support the world economy. It’s
the trickle-down effect. Greeting card companies, etc.
And there you are, chewing a ham sandwich with your mouth wide open,
greasy lips smacking in the front window of a coffee-shop that the
owner has painstaking built up from nothing and risked his entire
life, and the life of his family, simply to make a fine cup of coffee.
All he wanted was for you to enjoy a simple pleasure. This is how
you repay him?
Congratulations. The world hates your smile so much that it’s
decided to step in front of a comet. It’s astronomical suicide.
Clink! There goes the link! There goes the chain! There goes the dog
that turns the world and makes the seasons!
I hope you’re happy now, sitting there with your ham sandwich,
chomping away like there’s no tomorrow.
Sam Bennett lives in Chicago. He's been published in some ‘zines and shit.