how many dogs need to die
to feed the cat
with the fat pouring onto the dull street
that forgets to reach this silver headless plate
when the sun sours atop the family pet
then you must summon my name
like a leash turned whip
air beckoning the bow
demanding the few breathes barked out to come
come relax under the black blot
it is here i will i last
i ask can i see truly see
swallow with the mouth of my eyes
and the licks of my lashes
your form that has dented toilet bowls and dim soap
and yet has never been truly clean or emptied
there another beast is called spot
look at that wild wolf that would slaughter every small thing
devour all memories and sensation of pain
destroy any cycle of the weak living found on a saturday
in bed all day
named felix or max or me
if the owner is so strengthless
i must stop writing this
the dog has drooled on my lap
these are new pants
that must be washed now
waiting
the skin is cold against an open mattress
filled with hair that could either be mine
or bitch’s
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