Opun Gaol, Opun Goal

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i am an opun goal,
pressure points R her/e
and ther, & then sum,
as they say, she

keeps pressin.
but NO is forever
when it comes
in big letturs.

but gaol is opun,
prisonurs keep
escapin, 2 my
amazment, despite

stony determinashun
& clay feet. but her hair
& mine won’t meet,
weeks will pass, years

will pass by. our hairs
wont entwine,
no confeshun, no relees,
no lub 2 call mine.

Whatever

I is sorry 2 have tried once more
to be friens wif U, when will I learn?

All U sais is “whatevar” & “do dis, do dat,”
as if I didn’t lissn 1st, 2nd, 3rd time.

I shall haves 2 fire U in good time, perhaps
2 manies people hurted U will have done,

nondiplomatic kitteh. Der wills be
laws suit, I will havs 2 search da wurld

4 sum1 as good as U, which is fine.
Rite now, I cares not, my hart is

brokun, agen, and I cannots stick
2 point, but - whatevah.

She B Leavsin . . . Agen

(resumé 4 new viewerz:
cold kitteh cames heres,

fulls of enthuziasm, & udder
-iasms, like charismiasm,

trustworthiasm, & airz
of kindnessiasm, & uf cours,

frenship. my bwains
fell out, i wuz so in lubs

wif strange creature!
gosh! long stori, anywayz,

we fell out.) Aniwayz,
i gaves it anudder try,

so she iz bought me veggie-
tables, birds, long lookies,

& leeve to leave, wud i drive
her to da airport, pweese?

It wuz “nice,” da convershun,
but message da same, as if

tryin to massage it
into sad-kitteh bwain:

“leafs me alone, lets me go,
let me go, elsewheres, alone.”

Desperation

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I wroted this song 4 U,
but I has nowheres 2 put it.

I tried 2 pocket it, but it
fell out, along wif brains.

I wroted this pome 4 U,
for U only, nao evrione

reads it, but U. Kitteh
desprashiun noes no end.

Inexplicitably

I saw U todai, again, briefli. Looksin
at me, inexplicably. I saw myself

beein seen: wut light wuz I in?
Wut brand uf televishion screen

wuz I seen in? Wide or narrows?
Didst my hair burn, wuz it

eaten by germs? “All brushing
is bein brushed,” I said, “all sayin is

bein said,” and “always already.”
Yet, evryfing is onli on da verge

uf becomins, as ever. Haltin
spiders keep strugglin, as ever,

treadin da long, narrow corridors
uf imperfekt artikshulation.

Suspishous Kitteh Looker

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Y iz U looksin at me like dat?
Aftah months of loosin me

froms ur body, carefulli,
liek an uncomfy bra, da way

hooman she-kittehs do it,
intricatli, wif great care,

sinse bra-straps R traps,
I am told. Y U iz looks

into my eyes, wif intesiti,
liek dat, all day? I iz happi

and uncomfi and confusd.
I iz stirred and shakun

and strugglins wif myself,
consultins my inner advisor,

unfortunatli on holiday.
I wants 2 embed U into

my reality, not sure abouts
U, wut U wants. A someone

2 drives U home? A fur-stroker?
A broker 4 your home?

Desire drives me 2 Insane,
then to Inane, da city fulls of

horns, hairs, and overly
suspishous kitteh oglers.

Confesschun

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OK, I lied. I lied thruf my teef and then sum.
I lied thruf my whiskers and claws and my hair.

Thruf is: I wuz in lubs, badli, like south to north,
da magnetic or battery thingie. Worse, in fact.

I had dreems, reems uf dem, abouts you,
and yes, I had hopes 2 of course. I hads to

shed my entire self 2 gets ovah you. I even
cried liek a hooman, for days. I nearly

spaded myself in despairs, losin hairs
like a stressed-out scholar, whose papurs

left da building, and then sum. I waited
on my self, gave it rashional arguments,

liek “thear can be no bones! not a singul one!”
clear like a crystal, harsh liek a stone, I ruled

“you cannot haves no-one!” to which no-one
responded, there were no replies 2 my

unsaid statements. My hole lifes at stakes,
it felt like, so unscholarli, very unproffeshional,

dis piece uf mind at stake, myself, whatevur
kitteh bwain wuz left, nuffin but shame.

Hyphen-ated Converse-ashun

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I iz ok. I over-romantic-sized da fing, iz ok
naos. It iz busy-ness as ushual, I iz ready

2 talks naos bout importants fings. Itz ur
mind I iz aftah aftur all, not ur personabul

self, cloistered, a waste on hoomans, a weight
on shoulder not matter-ializin, all that

iz watur - I iz bridge, I keeps playin cards
in da dark. I will settle 4 imperfekt

common-ikashun, a sixths uf ur mind,
ands a “hello-how-r-u?” to boot.

Felinicitous

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“Felicitous means ‘apt, pleasant, delightful’”
she saids, & wifdrew into kitteh scholarhood.

I wants 2 crawl in2 her head 2 finds delishus,
felishious thoughts & langage decifered.

I wants 2 shed hairs in her house, reads
felishously left papurs, & comment, I want

2 use me hughe Kitteh bwain. I want feline
interakshun, kitteh-2-kitteh delishusness.

Cold Kitteh

Cold kitteh, if cud, I wud takes ur littuls bodi
home wif me, embed it in duvets and blanketts,

brings U hot tee & long-johns. We wud wastch tv
& talks abouts teh dis & teh dat, cashualli. We’d

snooz and laffs at da hoomans, like homans laff
at americans, we’d philosiphise abouts their

marvallous spellin, and say “they sures knows da
langage, buts not hows to speaks it intellegntli.”

Then go backs to bed, safe, warm, sleepsin -
like kittehs - twentifive hours a day.

Frustrashion

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Her littles bodi, behind glass,
her B-ing, dependsin on me, it seems

& so littles I can do. They
lieks not her fethurs, her style,

her eatsin. Her writsin, I likes
it, da shaky fethur pen spellin

miss. I miss it, liek I miss
my freedom uf felicous speech,

teh feline welcome, all gone,
hunter collegeaus sink them

teefhs into her, and in me their
is nuffing but gilt and bloddy

angur at unfairness. Hows can
I save Ur fethurs, now?

Pink Dress

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I has 2 wear a skirt 2morrow,
it’ll kills me, liek it would U.

Imagine Urself in pink frills,
feels wut I feel. Librate da

kittehs!! Ban da pinkness!!
Iz likes puttsin lipstick

on dogs, all wrongs! Vote
4 Sad Kitteh nows!

Looksin In2 Eyeses

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4 a sec today, she looked into my eyeses. INTO dem,
do u know wut dat like? Not ordnary lookin, but IN2!

Throuf black vortex of da iris, past red trucks, yellow
dollies, all da toys uf childhood, & further stills. Like

lightnings its was, dis sudden being lookd into. An
angiogram coulds not haves lukkd deepr. Chopak

coulds not havs meditated his way into my soul cells
like dis, dis look lockd into da inner of my fingies.

Talksin!

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Finalli we iz talksin agen. Ur hand
is talksin 2 my hand. Paw-2-Paw style

pow-wow. Kitteh bwains kommunikatsin
bodies-langage-wize. So glad U understands.

Scooch

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Hun, hows I can flirts wiff u?
U so far awai and starnge langage too

U has, I can’t has understands.
Da interwebs confuse me, there B

so manies buttons, buts naos
ur here, in dreems, 4 reel,

I wants U 2 scooch
ovah heres.

Little Fing

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little fing, how can u be so annoyin
and amazing, so cute, how cans u keep

tuggins my heart strings, playin
da cell and da o, virtuoso,

bootiful tune on dees strings,
while tearin da kurtain, clawin

da sofa, eatins me outs
uf da house, little fing.

I Can Has Enrgy?

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Iz hard wurk beein kitteh: so mush bird 2 chase,
so mush yarn 2 play wiff. So mush brains wurk.

Todays I hads 2-3 thougths, iz absloutlely exhausted.
I iz thotghts abouts fishes, cheezburgars and abouts

sleepin scshedule. Perhapps also abouts kitteh I
iz in lubs wiff, whoevur dis might B. If onli i coulds

rememberzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Inga

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no more talks, hey? bridges all b burned, hey?
wut abouts all da hoppin about i did, all da

cheezburgas i prepareds 4 U? Non uf dis
matters anymoar? ashas 2 ashas must return?

me aunt died today, kitteh, btw, wut can I say,
how smalles it all seems nao she’s gone.

she wuz flowrs 2 me, and happiness, ands
talking bouts da weathers with luv.

Wut?

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Y U callins me name 4? Wut do U want?
I has no benifits, no hairblls, no chocklate-chip

cookis, & no obediens in my buddi. I comes if
I feels like it, & if U makes me some cheezburgers.

Perfume

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i members da perfume,
so sudden, unxpected,

hoo were u plannin
2 woo, i wonders,

we wuz only frends, ever,
u dont have a bone,

plannin ackshulli 2 stay
awai 4 as long as u can.

so nuffin 2 do wiff me, at all,
i shuddnt have smelld it at all

Nuffin Again

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U are really borin me now, away-kitteh
i dont even knows how 2 muster up some

feelins 4 u. Nuffin abouts u endears me
animore, not ur tiny jaws, nor teef,

nor tiny feet or smelly bafroom.
Nuffin muss come 2 nuffin in da end?

Edge

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i know wut ur doin
your edgin away

why dont u just leaves
4 sure, 4 good,

i dont cares
anymores

Re Moved

Twise removed – first by transatlantic jet
– second by all da mistakes I made

coz littlez kitteh brain. I tried to paddle
throufh da hurricane, I maded a hughes

fail in dose waves, swimmins franticly
twards a non-crashin plane in my hart

Dose Eyeses

dose eyeses can nock a horse doan
& i iz da smallest fing

dat nudge can turn a hippo ovah
so pweese considah me tiny size,

my lack uf time 4 lubberi,
& genral vulnrabiliti

PWEESE talks 2 me

kitteh searches 4 her pencils, her numbars,
her nubians, her promotishinal papers.

they B all in your hair, I tells her, wut
can I say? Nuffin. Gives me dat pees

uf papur & den we’ll talk. Gives me
a little bit uf your hair. Da air

is fulluf it & dis unhelthi relatshunships
wiffout pilots and nevah takins off,

nevah sayin anyfing, but complains:
me stomach is too big, it carries

butterflyse carry-ons & butter
cups around ur humps like a

nevah-sayin-nuffin pees uf
adminstrative silence.

Kitteh Goes Spirishual

4 reel. my wife
from anudder life

has joind me in da
bukkit. were u

man or woman
kitteh, i wonders.

was ur bodi a
play fing tumblin

joyfulli thro da
air, was we on

anudder planit?
did we fly

thro watur and sky
liek kittehs in

slow moshun?
was u small-bodied

den as now?
was ur thoughts

as big as stars
and clouds, as now?

A

A, I knows U not readings dis,
but i muss tell U i luved U 2 bits,

still do. Nuffing saddens me so
xtremly like dis – Y U havs 2 treet me

like shit 4? Wut point? Y we no can has
understandins? I has 2 much sensitif

& 2 much afraids? I has 2 much
idiot brains? Iz it alls my falt?

Y we no cheezburger can has 4?
Y we muss havs imcombatible 4?

Has U decided 2 talks 2 me no moar?
Iz it bygones B bygones now?

Has I burnt my ships, R my lips
frozen to da pole, buttocks stuck

in uncomfy chairs, paws
unsnug in hooman mittens?

Was our sharing da wickerd basket
an inadvertent cosiness that followds

da randomness of airplanes fallin
outs uf da sky like moths drawn

2 da lite? Wuz da grabbity drownin
me hart in you-ness a fing uf

chancy blinksin? & sinse U cannots
answer, how shall i presume?

How shall i resume? Where is my
bukkit? How shall da spells B checkd?

Nudgin

Nudge me again. Pweese.
It awakes again helthy dreem,

da smells uf happyness, da
open exchance uf ideas & feelins.

Why is U married? I keep your
gift at my bedside tabel 2getha

wiff my manners all tuckeds in.
I coulds so easily slip in

ur bed & enjoy wiffout kwestshuns,
wiffout bad kitteh konfidens.


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Da Sadness of Employees

aint no ploy, no play, no piece
of string. Dey b shakin enuff

2 tear boss kitteh harts aparts.
Dey be apart, cannots talks,

nurturin old hurts, wantin
2 b rite, not quite wantin

2 b alrite just yet. Takin out
da guns, 2 protect inner kitteh.












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Back Place

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I had 15 years uf needin her back,
her back turned confidently, knowsing I hads
no strengfh 2 stop da kneeing in gratidudes
4 bein calleds a good idiot, good idiot,

repeadedli, latchin on 2 da “good”, whiles
da “idiot” infecteds my sole slowli & stedili
til my gait was as crooked as my wides opun
gate 2 furtha abuse, I welcomed it.

Dat wuz longs ago. I is grown-up now
& can has say no 2 dis extreme egotist
pesterning me now, bringings back
dis unnecessri past into da prescent.

vertebrae

. . .

i ran out of jokes today
i ran out of lolspeak

when she played the tape
of a long-ago crushing of bones,

brought into the present casually,
and in such a matter-of-fact tone

i can still hear the bones breaking
behind those calm breast notes

Age Differens

My bodi iz older than I am
and so R my thoughts

I kannot keeps up wiff dem:
dey be runnings away

from my sole, on fragile legs,
varicose veins thumping as dey

go . . . . . . . . so . . . . . . . slowli.
“U luk like Ur nineti,” she said

and laffed at my bent bakk
bendin ovah backwords.

“Da pain is older & reeller
dan U, old lady,” I wunted

2 say, “besides, a Lovely
calleds me today on my cell

& rejublilated my membrane.”
But young 1 wud nots b impreshd.

Back Pain

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Bukkit uf confuze kitteh
neerli wishes, pweese

brings back da pain.
I herd U lunchoond

successfluli todai,
but wuz onli happi

fur U, and Ur com-
painions. U do bettur

wiffouts me & I iz
proud uf U 4 reel.

Da pain in me back
is reeller dan

imagioned jelasy. Da
pain, it tells me stuffs.

Iz der anudder way
perchance 2 lubs?

When U Autum Leafs

Iz unfair 2 gimme dat longs look
when u leafs.

Stops it, I tells U. I iz vulnabarable, allbait,
bossy kitteh.

Autumn is sad-kitteh season, U no can has
play wiff me hart.

Luk. Lissen. Repeat. We muss havs fun
& learns

froms each udder. No flirtsin wiffout
meanings it.

No tearings leafs from trees wiffout
autums allowsin it.

Filosophlical Musings

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We no can has understand ourselves:
we need halp from 1-anudder.

Da closest way to da self is through
da Udder, as Ricoeur said, & there be

creativity in misunredstandings.
I cannot C myself, wiffout seeing

U seeing me, as Merleau-Ponty said,
& I cannot halp involvsin myself

in seein U. Dis chiasm is
a fold in da flesh uf da wurld,

immensli trobblesome, immensli
enablin, constantli craetsin moar

craetsive misunredstandings:
da lost & found lubs uf da mind.

Bukkit of Confuzed

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Starngest fing! Dis
loopy lady is still heres.

Stills speeksin 2 me, as if
no galgaxy uf misunredstood

stars wuz between us.
I no get rid uf her can has.

I can has bukkit uf confuzed
fur days 2 come.

“Ur a Nice Person, But”

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I weekens ockashunli, usualli on weakends,
caturdays R da wurst. I falls in lubs again

wif man-eaters, kitteh-beaters, all kinds
uf strangeness. I pine 4 communikashun,

& suddenly thinks “You are a nice person, but”
is a compliment. Buts, as U can C,

i is xtreemly linguistically comptetent,
& knows wut these wurds mean

in a cat-and-dog context. They realli
is not a gud fing, sociopragmaticli.

So

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So, I can rite no more emails 2 U,
U want pees and qwuiet.

I cannot has talks with U
wiffout U tellin me I is an idiot.

I wants it no more, this hoppin
up & down on the wound U so

like doin; I knows I is an idiot.
“It’s not U, it’s me,” I wud say,

if we could talk, if I hads voise,
if U had ears and if U cared.

Then we wud swim deeper into
cirlkes of slow destrukshun, so:

no point in talksing, sendin emails
2 her highness. I has had enuff

of hurts. She has had enuff of disturbs. So.
We shud findes goodness elsewheres.

No Bones uf Lubberi

Unrekwaited. Utterli.
She has not a bones
uf lubberi in her body 4 me.

I NO BONE CAN HAS!
No candlelite dinnah,
no goings on holiday 2getha.

Caturday passes like an
empti katnip bowl, da silent
sorrow unknown 2 evrione.

Missn da Missus

i alreadsi missus
da missus, da bad

influens. i gots
2 b strong, nots

let her tiny self
overwhelms me so

Oily Eye

I wuz swimmin in syrup tawards you

under blankits, under a cover
of head-caseness & professurial

ignoranse. I wuz driving da nail
like mads through da celing

aboves non-listning pointy
intermittently furry ears.

I wuz combsin my hair
4 no-one I knew, 4 da

voice keepsing yellin
“your mad,” & njoysin

it immense. A thick oili
lens ovah my one sein eye,

da udder non-sein, still
hittins its dream on

malfuncshnin ocular nerve.

Da Slow and Steadi We

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It wuz we der, in
undrestandings & lubs,

it b we here, luukin
at picshure uf us

back den, luukin
at us luukin at picshure

now. Da years,
they B many, da

experienshes, da laffs,
da stupor we is been

throus. Ketshup wif
slow hotdogs. It B

a fires burning steadli
between us. We is

made up ours minds,
2 survives, 2 get wifes

& happy lifes. It B
we heres, now.

Da Gain uf Waste

Wastage
leefs a trase,

wistch u can
laffs abouts,

evens learns
froms! Da

starngest fing!
It is ovah.

I threws it
away; still

it B speakins
2 me, like a

wrinkled pees
uf paper

sproutsin
news papers

I can recycle
in pomes.

Alien Kitteh

Da tiny integillent gnome,
onli 4 feets high, onli 40

pounces, B strugglin. An
alien. Tryins wiff intelligens

2 reforms da slow tall beins.
Starnge littles Metall-Kitteh

wiffout tears, teers fabrik
uf eartfh aparts, remains

obliviush to humans remains -
butts all in goodest name

of siense! Tryins to repair
alls our harts wiff needles

from Mars! Kuttins apart
wiff tiniest langage

our understangings.
I wish it good lucks,

I wish it goodest
fairings on da

human kitteh railings
it be trailin.

I Can Has Cebrelation!

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WHOOAA!
August is da crullest
monfh! It adss

insultshion to injury!
It treets me like a
head case.

Red rock, red rock,
no watur, its a
desert, and so on.

But I can has dessert!
I can has dessertion
from injurous ships.

I can has cake, I can
has absolutions
from me mistakes.

I can has friends!
They has rallid
2 me defense.

I can has fokus
I can has leave
buttry battring ram

to udder cow-things,
2 da own vices.
I can has Lubs!

I can has Clarty!
I can has Vishon!
I CAN HAS CAKE!

Puppy

I can has trufh
I can has clarti

I can has knowladje
of mi cold kitteh.

She wunted puppy
2 look admirngli

& forevah
at her eyes.

She wunted puppy,
she craved a sad

puppy

2 slaps around,
2 do her biddins.

But I is kitteh.
I can has trufh.

Not Teh Reel Fing

I is lost a famli todays
I is lost a membre

It was me rihgt arm,
but da pain B a phantom

pain. I is misudredstod can has.
Me famli B not me famli,

it be axkwaintance,
it be politness

not da real fing.

Whatever

mi coaxin, mi purrin
mi praisin, mi strokin

mi tryins 2 extradikate
sum feelins – in vain.

I is noobodi, no
greet kitteh, no

intressin as
kitteh bein.

Der B noes
“How B U,

What U doin,
How U feeling?”

Whatevar.

Dog-Lubbin Kitteh-Thing

littles dog-lubbing
kitteh-thing

brakes mi
hart agen

mi purrin
has no avail,

no use. she
b turnin

to puppis
agen & agen,

2 their cyote
littles giys eyes.

Lost Kause

I has been in dis
SITSHUATION
B-4. BOMBS rainin

in mi earses.
I is TELLIN
U, U listener,

SPEAKIN
wif BUSH earses,
DEF ERS.

ME, ME, ME
it sayses, da littles
thingy, once

so kute, nao so
ABOMDIBALE
2 half-sanish

Sad-Kitteh,
rekognishin
da abuse, da

nonintresst
of da LARGES
EGO evers.

Unerdastnable

Pat mi furry belli,
scissor not me ears
wif nonsense,
B mi lovli ladi

of da lake,
and da pomes
in da lake
wills not B so

IRRITERVIABLE
UNERDASTNABLE
X-D out

looong b4
littles hart kitteh
hads da chance
2 B born.

Yes, I B bakk

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Yes, I B bakk,
but I noes wunna
talk 2 nobuddy.

Wut wud I sai,
when evryfing
said B mistake?

B-sides, I aint
no kute guy,
so wut B da point?

I kant haves
2-morrow? I
kant taik

ur sorrows
in me arms?
Ur dolly B

absent & silent,
she wont sent
a message.

Skratching Post

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she’z gone,
soon i iz leavsin 2.
not lifes, uf cours,
dont worries.

not dat i dont
want 2, but
i has 2 try 2
reach dat plase

dat itches so
deep inside
i cant reach it
wiff a skratching

post. i has 2
try 2 brick up
dat hole
in mi head,

plaster dat
gaping hart
shut. I muss
go away

& search
4 da tools
2 do dis.

No Can Has Forget

da hurt comes
at exacly ten o’clock
no bones abouts it
juss dis wet blankit

uf missed oppurtunitis
dis paper bag uf slow
I muss wear on mi head
from now on

dis stain of idiocity
which wonts go awai
(and I tought I wuz
intelligents...)

dis pain uf no salvation,
dis no can has forget
to undo my mistakes,
to ctrl-alt-delete.

mi unworthy will ruin
mi summerless self,
dere is nuffing in dere
to enjoy

Nuffing

all iz well, she sais,
nuffing happend

but nuffing iz well,
evrifing happend

& i lost her
furever

Missreadsin Signs

Strollsing down
unrekwaited lubberi lane,
quite insane, kitteh vains
varicose & throbbsin
wif huge unrekwaited,
i walks sidewais
& askew, foolins
miself repeetedli,
fallins into ditches,
missreadsin signs,
forgetsin 2 eat & sleep.
It wuz me who hurt me
all along, dis stupid
hart wuddnt see or
unredstand dis No.

Thoroughly Walkd On

I am a thin piece of meet,
chewd & spat out

on a dirty floor &
thoroughly walkd on.

I am a dirty dish cloth
ridden wif dyftheria,

suiesidal bacteria
infectins da lower

tracts of da larynx
and womb.

Mi songs remain
unsung,

mi chillren still
unborn.

I Has Bad Afraids

Sad-kitteh-me wunts 2 give
whole-littles-brain-content

to Cold Kitteh, da hole story.
We B in baddes watur now,

krokodiles chasin aftah us.
Cold Kitteh will suie me

dediskret me, sekreet me,
da Sad Kitteh. Mi

feelins will b publischd,
mi carrier will b ovah,

ovah and done wiff.
I ams afraid. I hurted

evrione, inclusin miself,
I shuddve kept mi

Sad-kitteh-brains 2
miself. But den

hows kud I lives?
I is so afraids.

Slo Winnins

Mi winnings R slow & subjekt
2 xtreme prejudish.

All dis wurk & stills nobuddy
lubs me, nobuddy saws me

diggin up this garden, planting
seeds of strangeness and xcellens,

not evan da starngeness herself.
I haves imparteds my otherness

on 2 many, I muss go backs
2 my usual detachd & sorri

& normal self, & no moar has
abmornal hartbrakes.

2nd Birf uf Cheezburger

Turnin & turnin in da widening gyre
Da birdie cannots hear da hungary kitteh;
Thingies r crazi; shoppin centre closes;
Mere anarchy iz loose upon da markit,
Da fish tank breakses, and evriwhere
Innisent kittehs gets horrobli wet,
and has no-can-believes-in, while dogs
yap away energetikalli.

Comeon! sum lighter muss B lyin arond;
Comeon! surely anudder cheezburgerz on da way.
Anudder Cheezburger! I onli meowed dis tought
Den Celing Cat’s giant uncombed fur gots
In my eyeses: sumwheres in cheezburgerless land
There b a starnge lion-hooman thingie,
Who stares like mad dog wiffout empapity,
Movsing its inadqate leggies, while all aronds it
Shadows uf oh-so-tasty but stoopid birdies fly about.
Da darkness falls down again; but finaly i knows
Dat forever sleeping in stones not so gud aktualli,
Will makes u dreem uf dogs throwsing rocks,
& what rofl dog, its thyme at last in da world-nose,
Will skid ungrasefuli towards cheezburger?

Prejudish Flies

Asian flies are
swarming my littel
prejudice-ridden
would-be lubber’s
littel head

she leans on me
for an outlet 2
her infallible
misunredstandings,
her greatness,

her nonexisting
lubbery of me.
It was me who
supported this
stupid idea

thees cups of tea
dis exessive non-
speaksin madness,
yes I suggested it
& nao it will brings me

down, my mudder
will havs 2 buri me
b4 dis is done, and
it’s all yer fault,
infallible 1.

Birfday Cake

Lubber, u shuddave come ovah,
I wuddave brought u
blankits and bukkits
& a birfday cake dat

wuznt a lie. I wuddave
aksed u serius queshuns
abouts ur life, & gentli
tucked u in mi furri self.


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