This Land is Their Land

This Land is Their Land
by Anonymous
I’m allergic to cats
but I have three.
I have high blood pressure and a hard time
breathing –
yet I smoke.
I drink
a lot of coffee and soda.
I suffer
from the disease of
and when I can afford it –
I like to party.
I haven’t cleaned
my room
in months.
There is more cat hair
behind the headboard of
the bed
and under the bed
than there is
on my three cats, combined.
I have two ash-trays
both of which
are overflowing
because I’m too lazy
to empty them.
I have enough empty
plastic bottles of soda
on my back
to pay a small bill.
As far as the drugs are
I’m just waiting –
on the first.
Instead of cleaning
my room,
I’m writing poetry –
yet another way –
of shortening
the expectancy.
I feed the cats well.
They eat well.
They understand me.
At any given time,
there’s always a
better chance
of the walls
than there is –
of the cats
ever opening
their mouths.

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