A poem is an animal.
You can love an animal too much,
Like when my brother hugged
His kindergarten hamster
Too hard.
When you love it too much
It dies.
You squeeze out the
Eyes and blood and shit and soul,
And then you are covered
In shit and blood and you have a dead animal.
And that is weird.
I mean, feed it
And pat it and
Take it for walks and that.
But remember who’s boss.
Don’t let it on the couch,
Make sure it doesn’t bark at strangers.
Not easy.
Here, this explains it.
You buy a puppy to impress girls.
So you get laid.
You don’t buy it to fuck!
That about sums it up.
Poetry | Issue 22
Base Instinct
