The Cat Machine (pussy whipped)

12 02 2010

I was chewed alive in the cat machine
see the high-heel marks on my back?
I earned them every blue and black.

can I interest you in garter belts or lizard pelts
two sad drips of absinthe in a mendicant bowl?
the poet never sleeps, or perhaps he can’t

It’s the only cure for a coma, sleep
You can’t just retire from being a vampire
this is a pale outpost of the temporary

The OM is only a dial tone
scraped from the airwaves
no FCC license, no designated carrier

The Cat Machine meshes fangs and claws
and silent feet. Satan has a tail for balance
an OM pronounced MEOW

Don’t ask me how they do it
the feline kills by instinct without remorse
The Cat Machine Purrs
The Cat Machine Purrs

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