The pottery class was a wash
I made a sculpture of Owner Bill
But when I tried to make the ears life-life
They brought the entire sculpture down onto itself
Bill's ears destroyed Bill
That's almost a poem
I used to be a poet
Back when they allowed mixed breeds
To slam down at the Mailbox
It was this mailbox
So we called it the Mailbox
And we read our poems there
That was before Jinxy took his own life
By intentionally choking
On a piece of tin foil
They say it was an accident
But we all knew
How low he was
The last poem he ever wrote was called--
My Tin Foil Dream
I think that says it all
Dancing didn't really pan out
The way I wanted it to
Sure, I have strong back legs
But I find that the state of dance today
Is really inhibiting
To who I'd like to be
As an artist
I choreographed a piece
In the downstairs living room
And performed it for Ugly Human Lori
But she thought I was having a seizure
And took me to the sterile place
I had a girl once
They took her to the sterile place
And she never came back
But two weeks later
The Montgomery's had a Jack Russell terrier
That was the day
I learned what heartache was
I put together a performance piece about it
But the critic from the Times
Never showed up
I find I'm constantly looking
For creative outlets
But I always end up on the couch
Watching Steel Magnolias
Yet Again
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