Parce qu’il faut bien définir une catégorie qui reprend les thèmes qu’on n’a pas su classer ailleurs… Chroniques ou délires inclassables, voici le tiroir sans étiquette ni poignée…
The dead dog is dead.
It lies. It is useless.
The dead dog has finished being.
All it can do is lying. And smelling.
Dead is the dog, finished barking.
Dead is the dog, it’s terryfying.
It doesn’t even know how dead it is.
Dead is the dog.
You can’t help from being dead
Or being a dog.
You could be my dog, I couldn’t be your death.
But the dog is dead
Smelly furry piece of something
Rotting in the corridor
What could you do with a dead dog ?
The dead dog is lying.
This does not mean it lies
Except that it lies anyway.
You can’t eat it, but you can smell it.
You could use it as a towel
If ever you were lacking bowels
Your sentence lacks vowels
A, E, I, O, U, well
The dog remains dead.
Cut the tail of the dead dog.
Put it in your fridge.
Fry it in your pan
But don’t eat the dead dog.
It doesn’t taste like frog.
It just tastes like any dead thing.
You can’t even drink a dead dog
Except if it is liquid.
But it’s silly to be a liquid dead dog.
Don’t I ?
The dead dog can’t die again.
Because it is already dead
You only live once
And you die only once too.
No matter how you try
Death is not life.
Another dead dog won’t make the first happy
Since being dead doesn’t seem so funny
Two dead dogs won’t make a family.
Rotting together is not pretty.