Smashed on sun I sleep under death
Night falls bringing bugs to my little light
To me, Executioner
Applying my trade without guilt but for the moths
who exit in dust, mocking my own frailty
But for those that buzz and bite
I will not apologize
And even now they agonize
Pondering what it will take to clear their
dead from the drywall
Hot Smack! Dogs? Smack!
Smack! Smack! Smack!
Cat, too, has the summertime blues
Patchy coat turning black to red
Fat but acting underfed
Fleas? Please cease! Jeez!
And dogs everywhere, panting like they own the world
Poop, piss, lick, scratch, bite
There’s my summer: day and night
Kenneth is an Evergreen grad. He spends his days sleeping, reading outside with cat in lap when weather allows, buying records at Rainy Day, and working on art projects. He spends his nights stocking products at a convenience store.