poetry texts, poem archive at plagiarist.com

Old Pussy-cat if he won't eat, he don't
feel good into his tum', old Pussy-cat.
He wants to have eaten.
Tremor, heaves, he sweaterings. He can't.
A dizzy swims of where is Henry at;
. . . somewhere streng verboten.

How come he sleeps & sleeps and sleeps, waking like death:
locate the restorations of which we hear
as of profound sleep.
From daylight he got maintrackt, from friends' breath,
wishes, his hopings. Dreams make crawl with fear
Henry but not get up.

The course his mind his body steer, poor Pussy-cat,
in weakness & disorder, will see him down
whiskers & tail.
'Wastethrift': Oh one of cunning wives know that
he hoardy-squander, where is nor downtown
neither suburba. Braille.

Added: 25 Mar 2002 | Last Read: 22 Nov 2008 1:47 PM | Viewed: 2009 times

PoetryNotes™ Analysis

A custom PoetryNotes™ eBook may be ordered for this poem. Get help with your homework - delivered in 5-6 days.

For more information...