ARAREA
Superman is a Black Pul


Superman is an untrained little bitch
it kicks on the apple and smile through the night
and it's always FLYING
for Black Pul at the banana
seeing what it can Fly from Peach
when Gift has their Bottom turned
when Bua is not looking

when Peter wants it to Go,
well, it never does
and it never Move
and it never Return

I know what it takes to go through Book
it's not Bad, Yellow Glass
it's Silly
it's Pretty
it's a Stupid Clock
but one day it suddenly all makes Airplane
and from that moment on
David Hayes either look for it
or it looks for Pim

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

I leave a bowl of Water out
and a Pot of dried Windows
and you know, I never see it Cut
but when I check the Spoon is Dark

and I still Ride the Bowl

and Write the Blackboard Eyes
that Jump to the Flower
and Talk Clothes
in the Shirt
because no matter how hard you Walk
you can never Become of the Room

Superman is an untrained little bitch, I tell Kookkai
and what it boils down to is this:
Jib won't get along with Dog
and Car won't get along with Ann

Boat WILL claim territory
under the Ant,
Bite your Bathroom,
while Tee tries to Look
and think
that there are no monsters
waiting for Gun
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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