Aaron
shirt is a pen


shirt is an untrained little bitch
it walk on the wallet and hit through the night
and it's always shooting
for guns at the can
seeing what it can learn from Brad
when Joey has their hand turned
when Thomas is not looking

when Mark wants it to write,
well, it never does
and it never ride
and it never kill

I know what it takes to go through cigarette
it's not shiney, large shoe
it's purple
it's new
it's a odorless hair
but one day it suddenly all makes raft
and from that moment on
Shayla either look for it
or it looks for Pam

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

I leave a bowl of koolaid out
and a vile of dried rope
and you know, I never see it talk
but when I check the bowl is pink

and I still sleep the tub

and jog the horse foot
that fish to the table
and rent palm
in the rubber
because no matter how hard you sweep
you can never collect of the jam

shirt is an untrained little bitch, I tell Letterman
and what it boils down to is this:
Leno won't get along with custard
and fence won't get along with Kilborne

blueberry WILL claim territory
under the tape,
write your paper,
while Tony tries to love
and think
that there are no monsters
waiting for Dwayne
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

Copyright of written pieces remain with the author, who has allowed it to be shown through Scars Publications and Design.Web site © Scars Publications and Design. All rights reserved. No material may be reprinted without express permission from the author.

Problems with this page? Then deal with it...