A Dog and a Monkey

Listen to me: I’ve been meaning to “mingle each other’s knees” for some time now.

I’ve tried talking sense to you before, but it was like “playing lute to a cow.”

But you’re ready to hear it now, aren’t you:

No more “seeing angels.”

I’ve always known your weakness for “hair-cream stallions” would get you in trouble.

And now you’ve saddled yourself another one. It’s “weasel’s play.”

Don’t you know: I’ve seen across to the other side of his heart. It is a “cat’s forehead.”

Him with that “face that cries out for a fist in it.”

You think it’s romantic, how he “lives like a maggot in bacon.”

Yet you are the only one who is blind to the “foxtail under his armpit.”

How his charm creeps on “snake legs.”

Don’t lie to yourself: it’s not only when he is “sleeping with the monkey” that his temper flares.

In fact, “the location of his worm is always bad.”

Even you have to “swallow a toad” on this one.

Jesus. Talking to you is “like scattering baby spiders” sometimes.

But don’t listen to me. It’s only a matter of time before “an autumn breeze begins to blow.”

He will try to “reheat the cabbage” but don’t you let him.

You “stamp on the mushroom” good.

You can love them if you can leave them.

“May God close his mouth” on that situation.