As she so often does, being two-dimensional.
But still, but still...
Scuttling furtive scratchy skritcher. Nosing through your trash.
Yet so soft and fuzzy-wuzzy was he. (It.)
Sets off for lunch. With your food, perhaps?
Only you can say.
Again. Yet again. Dressed to the tens.
Which is, as usual, a cut above.
Humming happily. Coming to trim your expectations.
And accept the duties of your job, your life, your everything. Maybe?
I think she's a friend of my sister.
Or ought to be.
"If it ain't broke, don't fix it."
Last refuge of the stupid. Where laziness is the call to action.
Can you hear it? Right around the corner?
Coming your way. So step smartly then.
See what it says. Admire the windows.
Know that you always have a way out.
And it's name is Bob.
And Bob's a bit pensive today, isn't he?
Watch me sing. Watch me fly.
Hang around and watch paint dry. And see what we get.
Is a thing. Maybe you've been there.
Or maybe you're going there. Stay tuned.
Every cat has a face. See? Right there, in the brush.
And this one is thinking about you. Thinking something. About you.
Wet girl doesn't seem to care about you. Doesn't seem to care.
About much of anything. Meanwhile, the water's rising.
There's no business like. But if you show me your monkey.
Then I'll know you mean it.
I see them when I walk. I see them when I stop. I see them when I sleep.
I see them standing in my dreams, and in the morning sun.
It happens, sometimes.
Right after lunch.
You don't see things like this unless.
You are very unlucky. Or very lucky. Or your name is Bob.
Jump up and down out in the sun. Old people don't do this.
Dribble and drool.
Keep away or you're a fool.
It's everywhere, it's everywhere. Dog product.
So ubiquitous, so useless. Like dogs.
If you drive, don't walk.
If you walk, look out.
It came from under the bushes.
To think about saying something quietly.
In case you were wondering
But everyone else already knows.