Trevor
Football is a Rose


Football is an untrained little bitch
it sleeps on the DVD and Smile through the night
and it's always showering
for potatoes at the Candle
seeing what it can grow from Jackson
when Henry has their nose turned
when Olivia is not looking

when Doctor wants it to hide,
well, it never does
and it never carries
and it never pounds

I know what it takes to go through remote control
it's not smelly, loudly paper
it's awkwardly
it's slowly
it's a weakly pen
but one day it suddenly all makes bean bag chair
and from that moment on
Kobe Bryant either look for it
or it looks for Barack Obama

light bulb is an untrained little bitch
and I've been begging for it, I tell Jim Carrey
but it doesn't come when my mom calls

I leave a bowl of Mountain Dew out
and a jug of dried sidewalk
and you know, I never see it runs
but when I check the carton is homely

and I still type the can

and eat the picture leg
that listens to the drawer
and kick sock
in the bookmark
because no matter how hard you dress
you can never park of the dog

Football is an untrained little bitch, I tell Santa
and what it boils down to is this:
talk show host won't get along with window
and laptop won't get along with hot dog vendor

magazine WILL claim territory
under the underwear,
throws your iPod,
while Bill Gates tries to wear
and think
that there are no monsters
waiting for gardner
to shut their eyes

---

Orginal poem:

death is a dog

originally written 7/8/98


Death is an untrained little bitch
it pees on the carpet and barks through the night
and it's always begging
for scraps at the table
seeing what it can take from you
when you've got your back turned
when you're not looking

when you want it to heal,
well, it never does
and it never rolls over
and it never plays dead

I know what it takes to die
it's not an emotional, rash decision
it's cold
it's calculated
it's a numbing void
but one day it suddenly all makes sense
and from that moment on
you either look for it
or it looks for you

Death is an untrained little bitch
and I've been begging for it, I tell you
but it doesn't come when you call

I leave a bowl of water out
and a bowl of dried dog food
and you know, I never see it eating
but when I check the bowl is empty

and I still refill the bowl

and vacuum the dog hair
that sticks to the couch
and spray air freshener
in the living room
because no matter how hard you try
you can never get rid of the smell

Death is an untrained little bitch, I tell you
and what it boils down to is this:
you won't get along with her
and she won't get along with you

she'll claim her territory
under the bed,
eating your slipper,
while you try to sleep
and remind yourself
that there are no monsters
waiting for you
to shut your eyes

Copyright of written pieces remain with the author, who has allowed it to be shown through Scars Publications and Design.Web site © Scars Publications and Design. All rights reserved. No material may be reprinted without express permission from the author.

Problems with this page? Then deal with it...