Stuffs

hows u can b so smalles
an sucha handfull of trubles

and hartache and stuffs?
i nearli hads enuff, i has

Com Walks Wif Me

Com talks 2 me,
littl elefant kitteh

i wants 2 aks u
out, but mah

cowardish spreds
its wet blankit, so

com walks wif me, thru
da woods and da firahs

2 da splendid city,
city uf plenties.

Hun, we iz can
makesit there.

Purhaps We Cross da Snowsy Road?

Itsy bitsy cold kitteh
sayes “I’ll stays.”
Da univeres be happi agains.
Sad Kitteh 2, sortuf

but worris bout
itsy bitsy’s happness
here, in da
cold an snow.

I rathur send bitsy 2
wherevur she B happi,
than keeps her here,
cold an shivring.

Or, bettur, wrap her in
blankits, ligth da fires
an bring her tee,
if she’d let me.

Teh Disastr, I B Deelin Wif It

2morrow, we’ll get dis sorted, luv,
sortuf, in sum way, mate.

I sweers 2 tell teh truth, and nuffin
but teh truth, and stuffs.

It’s will B diffcult and stiflin,
but no criyng: Sad Kitteh

gots herself sortid out, C?
Teh personal and teh

proffsionul, teh 2 sides of shit.
Innah conflik iz noe moar.

Rapped Round Ur Fingah

U gots meh
rapped round ur fingah,
but i has clawses,
thei b smalles

an largly ineffektiv
ats da moment.
Me hartache keeps me
at bay

4 now.
Soon, thouhg,
i will has 2 fire u,
littles hooman.

Fingie in Mai Paw

i has a fingie in mai paw,
a shard of glas, makesing
mai walk so awkwurd
an painfull an slow

sillykitteh sees meh
prokrashtinating
the catstrophe
til munday

i wont c a doctur
i wont b serios
i wont say nuttin
nuttin at all

I canott C U

Ur long laser-laik whiskars
R in mai eyeses, burnin them outs,
Oedipus-laik.

I canott C U.
I B B-traid, foold, idioted
by da bootifulness I creatsed 4 U.

I do da sit-out, ansers not
da call of inconveniens.
I prokraschtinates

da hart-ache, da “dis B de end
of da line, huh, nais 2 know U
etsetra.” Da unsaiabel "I lubs U"

and da saiabel “C U“
witch I nevah will agen,
and da “I no can has friend”

burnin mai near-2-no-brain
in my littles helmetless hed
2 cinders.

Sad Kitteh Chauffeur

In the appalling rain
i drives Kitteh to her plase,

to teh train, to teh
cold seet by teh uninspiring window

nao evryting is goin to hell, yes?
I has a headache

there wuz no hugz, no “I missus
u,” no spase for mai piersed

hart. There B ppals everywheres
pullin my skirts apart, bein nice,

and so “cyoot!”
they ares. Eejit.

They R not u, obviusli. Silli
little fing. I keeps riting

and riting on the ‘puter
as if u will respond,

someday, somehow.

Swedish Lesson

So I tolds mai unhappie, cold kitteh
“hej snygging” to whitch she respondsed

“Wut!? I a female cat, u idiot!”
Mai pawses reddend, an mai

ears. But xplained da genda-neutralty
of it alls, or trieds to.

Cold kitteh then says “snygging”
to me, but so off-pawishly,

and retreats to box, & a long, safe
weekends, not to be seen.

Wuz unables to say, then,
“Wut u doin dis weekend,

dear?” Rejekschun looms
like an uninterested “Ja, ja”

in mai sorry furry ear.
(“Jag gillar dig”)

Agony Helmet

y u in ma head agen
after short repreev

u figurd out that nay-saying
disintrestedness iz wut

gets me hot?
i likes it not

ma agony helmet
is lowerd agen and shut


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