PoeticaL
cluttering the net since 2001

bean

Friday, Jun. 06, 2003
When my dog sleeps under the covers and after I leave the bed...you can't tell she's there. Even forensic science wouldn't be able to luminol her activities. She's sly, she's quiet (when she's sleeping and not defending her bone ten times the size of her body weight), she's brilliant, she's sleek, and even more than that she loves me fiercely. She's an extension of my hip, a musical movement with perfect notes. She's always happy to see me, she's my little bean. Why a bean? Because if I could have named her I'da named her after coffee. It fits. She's warm, sweet, dark, smooth and small. Oh and she shoves her tiny head into my big huge coffee cups and licks at the coffee inside every chance she gets! I love her already...already so much. That little lump of sweetness.

and THAT is Paul Westerberg up there in that cool ass photo and someday I'm going to get a cat and name it Westerberg. As long as the cat can write like that boy can that is!!!
8:40 a.m. ::
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