Poem #2
Elliott Smith
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at the bottom of a pigpile,
person x sits,
tangled up in trunks and limbs.
the room is so full of fucking opinions
that only the biggest people can move at all
and when they do,
which is on the border of desperation,
some poor little unfortunate gets pinched in the process
and gets hurt
and starts shrieking.
and if anybody is bleeding
they are immediately taken out
by two gorillas who take them to the main chimp
who brow-beats them and decides to feed them fewer bananas.
if none of these treatments work to stop the bleeding they are carted of to the zoo.
otherwise we wait and sleep and sleep and wait and scream and wait and scream again.
so welcome to the hospital you stupid animal.
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