I would be the first to piss on all of them
and all their explosives.
I would make sure to tinkle on all of their matches
not a single aerial or even a piece of obnoxious red paper
would remain dry.
This colossal stain would wreak a reminder that
these islands are shared by all.
Then I would jump on every marauder
and knock them down, cut their height in
half or eighths if need be.
Their point of view altered like that of an errant child
left out after dark without supervision,
forced to see from a new angle.
I would then bark a loud critique about the ramifications
of deafness inflicted on beings of a lesser god.
Crazed by their ignorance, I might resort to
property damage leaving traces of my angst as a
sign to future canine, inciting them to rethink the
outdated notion of a man’s best friend.