a terrible dr. seuss-esque poem

with your hand on my head
and my head in your lap
my neck is exposed
bleeding evergreen sap
and you whistled my ear
with your bristles and reeds
but you could not destroy
all the fungus and weeds
soon my soil was yours
and your roots became mine
while your fingers were lace
like a creeping black vine
still the earth did not listen
to our merciful pleas
but our rope was pulled taut
hanging down from the trees
though your body was shaken
and your neck was intact
’twas asphyxiation
that had killed the cat