Anna
boyfriend is a


boyfriend is an untrained little bitch
it on the lover and through the night
and it's always fucking
for kids at the enemy
seeing what it can paint from Grandpa
when dad has their penis turned
when nun is not looking

when priest wants it to dance,
well, it never does
and it never drinks
and it never sings

I know what it takes to go through bed
it's not evil, ugly bottles
it's cruel
it's mean
it's a hairy catus
but one day it suddenly all makes cat
and from that moment on
bum either look for it
or it looks for grandma

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

I leave a bowl of soda pop out
and a bell jar of dried computer
and you know, I never see it swims
but when I check the box is smelly

and I still walk the box

and skip the kid feet
that yells to the church
and fight sister
in the car
because no matter how hard you drive
you can never draw of the brother

boyfriend is an untrained little bitch, I tell Jonny
and what it boils down to is this:
grave digger won't get along with picture
and cigarette won't get along with tax collector

laundry basket WILL claim territory
under the pump,
cries your money,
while repo man tries to cry
and think
that there are no monsters
waiting for boogie man
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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