Sometimes I feel like a tired, hungry puppy
Pulled at the leash to places in positions
That no longer make me look like a doggy.
Oh why do humans do this?
Can’t you see
I like to stand on four legs
not just three.
let’s keep walking together like
two plastic bags blowing against each other oh
how I like it when the crackling skin nudges my feathery
fingers cos the magic air tingling withinaround you makes it so dancer
Talk to Me (No. 2)
I know it’s got a bad smell
But once you taste a bit
You’ll see; it’s not so bad.
It’ll be like vinegar
burnt porridge or chilli!
But it will not kill you.
(You don’t even have to keep it for long.
Some people just spit it out and walk out the door.)
But if you run away from the spoon
That is dangling above your face
Back to the same pesto and fusilli you make
Every single bloody day –
At the most you add a bit o’ salt, a bit o’ pepper
To make obvious what you already have on your tongue –
You’ll always have a really sad mouth
That wished it didn’t listen to your nose
That wished it opened up
To all the lovely forks and spoons
To all the lovely flavours
and said hiya!