Monthly Archives: July 2014

A poem for my Cat

Seargent Kaboo

Leads his armaments to

Their fated dry-hump rape.

 

Drug up that tree

They were bound to see

Hope had died to an escape.

 

“Only a tyrant

can meet these requirements.”

And no one disagreed.

 

That carnage day,

The eighth of May,

When King Rudolph took the lead.

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