I can hear
the dog
of my alcoholic
neighbor barking
underneath me
that fucker always
barks late in the night
and early in the mornings
but I know that it’s my neighbors  
only friend
and that she would die
if she didn’t have that dog
and I sit up here with my cup of green tea
and pretend to write poetry
while I’m actually
just passing time
and I think that
my alcoholic neighbor and I have a lot
in common
even though
I don’t start drinking
at 10 in the morning
we are all fuck ups
in some way or another
perfection is for the sociopaths
fucking up
is for the rest of us


___________________



a poem for the cat


the cat is lying on the sofa
the cat is walking on the floor
the cat is lying
on the bed
the cat is eating its food
the cat is sleeping
the cat is playing
the cat is taking a shit
the cat is sleeping some more
the cat is resting
the cat is walking on the floor
the cat is sitting in the window
the cat is sleeping
the cat is sitting in a corner
the cat lies on the rug
in the living room
the cat is playing
with its toy mouse
the cat is eating some more
the cat is lying on the armchair
the cat goes for a walk
on the street
the cat gets back home
the cat meows at some birds
in the window
the cat is resting
this poem kinda sucks
but honestly
I’d rather read this poem
than most
poems on a certain
writing site