a shit eating poem

September 6, 2013

I read a comic called Day Jobs

of The Poets and I wondered why

and if they were just as scared as I.

Oh just call me a kitty cat,

I hide under beds and between table
legs scratching at mice but only

to test the waters.

how many people did you meet working

at that psychiatric facility and were they
all crazy?

purr purr purr

She is sometimes playful and other

times mean and other times maybe
just shy and I’d like to be called an

introverted kitty cat.

Did they try to kill you in that chair

when they opened up your brain
just to move around the stuff you’re
made of?

Mary was a little lamb
her hair as white as snow
and everywhere that Mary went
the man was sure to know.
We feed ourselves to wolves but I
I feed myself to nothing and it is so much worse
than being eaten by a beating heart and spit
back onto the floor.

Just call me an introvert, kitty cat
chasing lasers because they are not real
and working at a psychiatric hospital.

I’d like to think there are many sides to
everything and especially myself or maybe

I just like to daydream.


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