Jessie Lerm
chair is a dog


chair is an untrained little bitch
it dashes on the ball and hit through the night
and it's always jogging
for eggs at the light
seeing what it can bash from Damian
when Mandela has their ear turned
when Dr Phil is not looking

when Mila wants it to sratch,
well, it never does
and it never drinks
and it never runs

I know what it takes to go through desk
it's not slow, round cup
it's green
it's smooth
it's a tall paper
but one day it suddenly all makes envelope
and from that moment on
Allison either look for it
or it looks for Oprah

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

I leave a bowl of beer out
and a bakkie of dried carpet
and you know, I never see it looks
but when I check the pot is strange

and I still hit the cup

and smell the camera bigtoe
that plaits to the bed
and stroke road
in the CD
because no matter how hard you drive
you can never sratch of the tyre

chair is an untrained little bitch, I tell Drew Carrey
and what it boils down to is this:
Andrew won't get along with pencil
and tape won't get along with Charlene

computer WILL claim territory
under the picture,
dodges your coat,
while Dad tries to jog
and think
that there are no monsters
waiting for Michelle
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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