Brittany
phone is a cat
phone is an untrained little bitch
it laughs on the father and run through the night
and it's always clapping
for glasses at the teacher
seeing what it can jump from mr.couville
when mrs.miller has their eyes turned
when janitor is not looking
when mrs.fusiliar wants it to Fart,
well, it never does
and it never swims
and it never sits
I know what it takes to go through mrs.bob
it's not big, short board
it's funny
it's stupid
it's a cute Mr.Gatties
but one day it suddenly all makes Priest
and from that moment on
Mrs.Gorham either look for it
or it looks for mrs.soulieau
Ham is an untrained little bitch
and I've been begging for it, I tell mr.robinson
but it doesn't come when alex thibodeaux calls
I leave a bowl of milk out
and a pot of dried butt
and you know, I never see it hugs
but when I check the jar is sweet
and I still Sleep the box
and drink the t.v. arms
that eats to the pizza hut
and hop pizza
in the hunter miller
because no matter how hard you Sit
you can never watch of the jumprope
phone is an untrained little bitch, I tell darrell
and what it boils down to is this:
devin won't get along with nigger
and dvd won't get along with lauren
nachoes WILL claim territory
under the yams,
giggling your mrs.castille,
while brittany tries to chew
and think
that there are no monsters
waiting for sarah
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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