I was little once too. I skipped it but I see you there. Your appetite grows like your paws, ahead of the rest of you. You catch up to it, it outsizes you and when you finally meet up with what you want, you're not little anymore. I knew your name when you were on top of me, biting my cheek like Sylvia Plath or something trying to eat me but playfully I knew you K I T T E N M E A T And that makes me a cannibal it makes me horrible it makes me a C A T. Billycat.
And with Kitten Meat I didn't have to try for prizes. You bring them to me in your mouth, but when I walk down the street, pigeons land at my feet and for me the expire.