Kassidy
glue stick is a mouse


glue stick is an untrained little bitch
it snows on the pool and goes through the night
and it's always going
for dogs at the kraft diner
seeing what it can hunts from Kevin
when Juleen has their head turned
when Uncle mike is not looking

when Kassidy wants it to ,
well, it never does
and it never farts
and it never

I know what it takes to go through e-mail
it's not , ugly pen
it's
it's pretty
it's a key-board
but one day it suddenly all makes
and from that moment on
Stephanie either look for it
or it looks for

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

I leave a bowl of out
and a glad of dried
and you know, I never see it flies
but when I check the is hideous

and I still the juice can

and the wall mart
that hints to the
and come
in the neopet
because no matter how hard you
you can never go of the

glue stick is an untrained little bitch, I tell
and what it boils down to is this:
miss Ladas won't get along with pencil
and won't get along with

Mom WILL claim territory
under the letter,
hunts your ,
while tries to swim
and think
that there are no monsters
waiting for
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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