KJ Hannah Greenberg
Puppy Dogs and Feral Cats: An Urban Beddy-Bye
Puppy dogs, some feral cats, also monkeys screeching brightly,
Make happen lots of bird-like junk thats blue, mucousy, sightly.
Such that parklets go-rounds of curls, of silly children chanting,
Cause giggly chasing through the rain, where guns replace old ranting.
Hurt stinks once roosting high among friends on mimsy hills,
When nascent, hesitant attempts challenge the common will.
Lambie footfalls make for games, even rivalry of friends,
While chipmunks, anacondas, skinks slink through their cages ends.
Thereafter, authoritative vegans move to Middle Eastern climes,
Volunteer for urban work, to mess with regional hills or vines.
Black radishes, like sea green ferns, mallards displaying proudly,
What's more, forms of lagniappe, restore denizens fairly stoutly.
Tiny cherries, icicles, last years clover blossoms, too,
Makes great work of private cops, of eating fresh fugu.
Seems retarded that those short, fat crowding subway jocks,
Remain oblivious to city stink, though possessed of yuppie socks.
Maybe doctors, carpenters, journeymen of kinds,
Fixated with the Sophists works, with pickled orange rinds,
Might be able to halt this nonsense. I doubt it.
Given that pitbulls, like software hacks, can diffuse our gurus with their glare,
The rest of us low-context folks turn too afraid to care.
Personal, unified breaks, wrought from standing on some ledge,
Return us to our urban pets, plus to common roustabouts newer pledge.
The ABC's of Emotional Suicide
Guilt a bit. Hurt.
Jump all over. Knife.
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