OSCM
Office is a desk


Office is an untrained little bitch
it running on the computer and speak through the night
and it's always yelling
for paper clips at the stappler
seeing what it can writing from Charlie
when Jim has their arm turned
when Jesse is not looking

when Rick wants it to skip,
well, it never does
and it never running
and it never sleeping

I know what it takes to go through chair
it's not large, colorful parking lot
it's bold
it's obnoxious
it's a hansome
but one day it suddenly all makes
and from that moment on
either look for it
or it looks for

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

I leave a bowl of out
and a of dried
and you know, I never see it
but when I check the is

and I still the

and the
that to the
and
in the
because no matter how hard you
you can never of the

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

WILL claim territory
under the ,
your ,
while tries to
and think
that there are no monsters
waiting for
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

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