MUZZLE MAGAZINE
  • Home
  • Spring 2025
  • Submissions
  • Archives
  • Blog

The Third Time They Let the Dog Out in the Ministry
by Matthew (Mathias) Pitts

By then I was the old hat at getting away 
I scaled a fence once off of pure instinct

I laughed in the face of a purebred red nose pit who gave 
himself away with the shift of his chains — rookie mistake

Surely had he met me in the confines of the yard I’d have 
perished in the midst of the lord's work

A funeral for that good of a Christian
is held at a Kingdom Hall unless it’s not

Behind the not is a tribunal of elders asking just what
kind of death is this exactly And how And if you leave this awake

here with us who is to say if God is fond of you
still The morning I came to know my brother has died

I had been preaching for 25 undogged yards 
and we are still early into our truth saying

We might have saved a life come the next avenue
except for the dozen missed calls waiting for me back at the car

I thought it was a morning of un odd occurrences
Had I known what awaited I might not have stopped the work

It had been too many Rottweilers to count since I feared at all 
what could kill the body I’m wondering now

What else is there to take away from this quiet 
unassuming territory and what message

could penetrate the hearts of these people on this 
dog forsaken cul-de-sac Why didn’t you know


the fourth horseman rides across the silver sky 
yanking at the veil and before you know it 

this street will be razed and before that I could have kicked the dirt 
off a thousand feet over a thousand avenues edges

I chose to preach right here to you on a Saturday 
where I lose a brother altogether

Before that my watch starts here with a simple full body immersion 
In the pool you trust a man you call brother will raise you

When the time comes I’m beating down your door drenched 
and self-righteous just know I have three hours of God’s

mercy and I’m spending it all here And didn’t you know 
I can say all of these books with my eyes closed but my

brother is the one who believed every word And didn’t you know
all of the God that's sending heralds on the final day is right

inside the place I came from And didn’t you know
if you don’t die the right way you may never see the inside of a Kingdom

Hall again And the third time they let a dog out in the ministry 
by then I hadn’t seen my brother‘s face in 472 dogless homes

And then this one stepped onto the sidewalk
with an old testament lords offense almost as if to say - oh 

I thought I heard somebody laugh


Matthew (Mathias) Pitts Is a Poet, Performer, Filmmaker and Photographer from Columbus who uses humor and myth to fantasize the mundane especially in a black lens. Mathias' work focus' on his unique religious upbringing, love of anime and completely reasonable and non obsessive middle child syndrome.  Mathias is diligently working at releasing his first official collection  of poems as well as creating visuals through short film and he hopes you know that just because Mufasa was a lick, doesn't mean he wasn't guilty of the game. 

ISSN 2157-8079
  • Home
  • Spring 2025
  • Submissions
  • Archives
  • Blog