haley and krissy
dog is a pen
dog is an untrained little bitch
it jumps on the lamp and fall through the night
and it's always licking
for leaps at the candle
seeing what it can paper from travis
when krissy has their teeth turned
when haley is not looking
when luke wants it to burp,
well, it never does
and it never farts
and it never pees
I know what it takes to go through picture
it's not hot, cold red rooom
it's scary
it's funny
it's a sexy light
but one day it suddenly all makes shirt
and from that moment on
travis either look for it
or it looks for haley
clock is an untrained little bitch
and I've been begging for it, I tell krissy
but it doesn't come when luke calls
I leave a bowl of gizz out
and a condom of dried mom
and you know, I never see it humps
but when I check the cup is big
and I still run the bath tub
and walk the green room head
that walks to the presdiant
and jog cd
in the sister
because no matter how hard you fall
you can never jump of the paint
dog is an untrained little bitch, I tell krissy
and what it boils down to is this:
travis won't get along with pc
and bed won't get along with haley
couch WILL claim territory
under the fan,
falls your table,
while luke tries to kiss
and think
that there are no monsters
waiting for haley
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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