foxinsnow's Diaryland Diary
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George
George, why are you so stupid?
You run around and you run around and you run around
And I don�t know where you�re going
And I don�t think you do either.
You look like a little faerie baby. Like I used to be.
We�re both faerie changelings, George! Meow!
George, we have to establish something. Two things, actually.
I am not your emotional plaything. One day
When I see you, you sidle up to me and purr and purr, and I hold
You and kiss your little wet nose
And then the next day, you run from me�no, tear away from me
And skid across the walls away from me�as though I were a ghost.
What the hell is the matter with you, George?
Before I say the second thing, I should tell you that
I�m only writing this because I want to write something
Happy for a change and I�m no good
At writing love poems.
Did you know, my boyfriend hates Nico?
(But it�s okay, cause he�s so damn good in bed.)
Do YOU hate Nico, George? You better not.
Because I own you.
You act nothing like George Harrison.
Nothing, nothing, nothing.
You act more like John Lennon on acid
Or me when I haven�t taken my meds.
I think you�re schizophrenic, George.
Here�s my second message to you:
YOUR TAIL IS NOT OUT TO GET YOU.
IT IS A PERFECTLY LEGITIMATE PART OF YOUR BODY.
YOU DON�T NEED TO CHASE IT, CATCH IT, BITE IT
AND HISS AT IT.
Did that get through your little kitty skull?
This is my love poem to you, George.
In memory of George Harrison, 1943-2001
7:54 a.m. - 2003-10-20
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