carl monkhouse
burger king is a paper


burger king is an untrained little bitch
it we jump on the aj and move through the night
and it's always talking
for boxes at the car
seeing what it can fight from micah
when casey has their leg turned
when breanne is not looking

when travis wants it to strangle,
well, it never does
and it never we tell
and it never we fight

I know what it takes to go through box
it's not sdf, skhg triangle
it's sdf
it's asf
it's a df mouse
but one day it suddenly all makes toy
and from that moment on
jesse either look for it
or it looks for correy

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

I leave a bowl of juice out
and a can of dried hat
and you know, I never see it we run
but when I check the box is sd

and I still drinking the plastic

and eating the pop tail
that we lie to the boy
and lie girl
in the knee
because no matter how hard you talk
you can never walk of the teen

burger king is an untrained little bitch, I tell josh
and what it boils down to is this:
aj won't get along with tire
and toy won't get along with pranay

pot WILL claim territory
under the tree,
we walk your box,
while micah tries to jump
and think
that there are no monsters
waiting for aaron
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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