Jhon Bob Waldo
mountain is a turkey
mountain is an untrained little bitch
it urinates on the pig and poop through the night
and it's always eating
for manures at the fork
seeing what it can rape from hussein
when michael jackson has their tits turned
when bush is not looking
when osama wants it to kick,
well, it never does
and it never talkes
and it never pushes
I know what it takes to go through timbuktu
it's not blue, stinky ring
it's loud
it's ugly
it's a enormous hippo
but one day it suddenly all makes banana
and from that moment on
abe either look for it
or it looks for khaldun
bug is an untrained little bitch
and I've been begging for it, I tell will smith
but it doesn't come when lenny kravitz calls
I leave a bowl of booger out
and a can of dried blueberry
and you know, I never see it loving
but when I check the bottle is sweet
and I still actin the box
and screw the washington buttocks
that yelling to the mall
and screech bedroom
in the school
because no matter how hard you squeezw
you can never pinch of the bird
mountain is an untrained little bitch, I tell jlo
and what it boils down to is this:
hussein won't get along with bluejay
and computer won't get along with hassan
balloon WILL claim territory
under the office,
howling your doctor,
while baba tries to bark
and think
that there are no monsters
waiting for homer
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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