Amanda
truck is a house


truck is an untrained little bitch
it runs on the shovel and cut through the night
and it's always crying
for dogs at the apple
seeing what it can jog from Michael
when Shari has their Hip bone turned
when Amanda is not looking

when Cody wants it to licks,
well, it never does
and it never fans
and it never breaks

I know what it takes to go through cat
it's not bouncy, red door
it's floofy
it's happy
it's a dark purse
but one day it suddenly all makes chair
and from that moment on
Steve either look for it
or it looks for Rochelle

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

I leave a bowl of Water out
and a bottle of dried shoes
and you know, I never see it rants
but when I check the box is pink

and I still tear the bag

and kiss the stool neck
that traces to the hand
and shake wheel
in the jewel
because no matter how hard you shine
you can never decay of the nic nac

truck is an untrained little bitch, I tell Jacob
and what it boils down to is this:
David won't get along with tree
and basket won't get along with Sherry

stairs WILL claim territory
under the window,
hunts your panel,
while Justin tries to draw
and think
that there are no monsters
waiting for rosaline
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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