Not a barn
Iowa mobile home or farm house
Flystrips hanging everywhere
Only if they swing do they entice any flying beast,
Ankles bandages flies find,
I have two ankles last night one have fly larvi,
They use to place the bastards upon wounds to eat out the infection,
I am not infected just will never have the skin born there again,
I got all the slimy things off,
Of course I only own three pair of socks,
Had no clue where othrr two were,
So ran a load,
Now have only three laubdry pouches left,
Usually toss in bar of soap using,
Getting low on doap,
Toss in pair I was wearing,
I didn’t wait for load to finish to open washing machine find that pair,
Trust me neither would you if you just found fly babies on your bare skin without skin,
Restarted the wash,
I take second place to others including those in my care,
That’s how I was raised.
I was never the monster oppotunist my lying narcississ half-sister painted me to be,
Then I ate with a cast of thousands,
I’ll take stuff out of the washer later,
Had never gotten stire bought meatballs they were cold though I warmed thrm,
The kittens eat before their care, taking human,
Then boots ate,
Yep, if you guessed, then my meatballs were light colored cold things in my pint used yogurt container. You know this lesbian poet to well!
Far too well,
I took a nibble snd before the nibble vanished other small teeth were growling,
Table manners is a lost endevour with these kittens,
I had last week got ne and Pete Walmarts potato salad,
I found a hair I was done,
Pete lived his loaded pitato salad,
So I had thought I’d try the salad out again,
Not bad one bite,
Pretty good second b8te,
Itvwas then that silencevrangviver jittydin,my lao!
Mom’s got more food!
Like an invisible teletype in the secret kitty talk,
Didn’t get three botes out it away in my sack,
Thought I’d hear it up this morning for imatation Ferman potati salad,
Then I ate with shear hlee my frozen strawberry yogurt,
Then I covered up and fell like a stone in ltobdeep slumber, now its 416 am,
Baby kitten’s kitty milk was funky,
Like a sad circus parade, everyone follows me to the kitchen,
I imagine walking through no man’s land,
Instead of bombs bursting in aur its be careful and not stepping in poop!
Yelling move,move,move,
And on the way back,
I picture grampa Heike in WWI,
Granddad, as a young man, was a First Sargent in the medical cotps,in Flanders France,
His job was to find injured and dead fallen comrades and get them out of the trenches to help,
I had Socks and milk in one hand yogurt in a pocket,holding my pants up,yelling, “Move it, Out of my Way,” and a container of warm kitten milk ,
Kittens ate first,then Boots and Ling,Ling, and of course, then I had to write. Now I get to eat and drink the milk I brought back
See you folks later,
Val Whitewolf 