Sad Labels:
introspect
,
philosophy
Limping toward her the dog began to bark. Its collar loose. Its tail broken in several places.
Why are you here? What do you want? I'm a cat. What can I do for you, she asked. Prepared to run.
My friends are all rodents.
Injured dogs may be less dangerous, but they're still not to be trusted.
What could you want? I think I know.
I can't heal you. Nor can I make you worse. I am only a trifle of skin in claws twice the size of my own.
The bones you buried are not to be dug up.
I wish you well crippled dog. In digging up the other cats you've killed.
I see, I hear, I know. The evisceration of your soul is magic to poetry. Wonderful work.
-The Mad Celt
(http://dracocelt.blogspot.com/)
evisceration - a great word.
thanx. glad you like it.
being whole is overrated. pieces are much easier to manage.
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