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Fat Cat's First Book Poetry

Raindown The Window

He peed against the trough
like rain against the roof.
Take me there.
Newspaper cutting walls
and drunken acoustic balls.
Take me anywhere.
She smiled so sweetly
whilst pursing her lips, neatly.
Her head nodded once
and twice, four times,
rotating, my head followed
while my inners swallowed.
The walls nodded; bottles bowed;
the ceiling too; all joined in.
Speak deep – speak in my head,
grind your tones in my throat.
Too hot. Sleeves
too long – cast aside my coat.
Rain down the window
like steam on my showered forehead.
Body odours killed and dead
but still the toilet stinks.
It’s all too dirty – he thinks,
and slams the door out of there.
Take me anywhere.
Bum perched, in training,
she sat, legs curled under the pinning
of her piece of skirt.
Yet who when it’s she
who believes that I’m empty?
I am full of alcohol –
my veins injected pure and full.
She is the original angry young cat
and she hates me!

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