Aftershave

December 24, 2011

You’re coming for me,
I know it.

You want to grab me
and
take me away from my comfortable home
and
my toys
and
my games.

You want to lock me up
and lock me in
and feed me bread crumbs
and black out the windows so
I can’t see the others playing outside.

But I won’t let you.

I’ll smear glue on the stairs.
I’ll string up a can of paint.
I’ll scatter toy cars and marbles all over the floor.
I’ll heat the doorknob.
I’ll lay glass ornaments under the window.
I won’t let you in, you hear?
I’ll wait, armed and ready, at the doggy door.

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