Thursday, January 19, 2006

Dear Horn-ed Master

Today my little toes are become animal toes
and when I open the door to my apartment
I swear there’s a Zombie there waiting to go tooth at me.
I swear it’s not the color of my toes that reminds me of the color of the Zombie’s teeth.
But there it is,
coming together anyway.

How can I keep the two images separate?
Especially when the gnawing aperture
of disease combusts upon my TV mouth, claw-mouth?

Oh Wooly Mammoth Tamer,
I cringe before your clippers.
But more so when the figures of the Lawn Workers stitch past my windows in broad daylight.
That’s when I know the cut green things turn brown.
But don’t they have to die before they turn brown?

Always Faithfuly Your
Humble Clawing Scratcher