top of page

2024.11.16_KITTYWOOF_ FRUIT'N SEEDS

Kittywoof wasn’t always this smelly,

It didn’t a’happn all at once neither.


And really, it’s hard t’even blame someone.

Which to choose that hasn't toyed me ferder needs?

A bullfrog, a wolf, a quack, a rat, a cat, a snake, or spider?


Oh I got anger inside this Pumpkinhead, dats true,

You know how many other pumpkins out there too?

Lotsa them, and they heads ben smashed in fierce,

It be those good seeds inside- fruit’n seeds, ya see.


And Breeds, well, they love em as a special exotic meal at one time o’year,

Der was an old tradition they said, way way back, offering a pumpkin head.

Happen’d decades ago, treat’n dem pumpkins like strangely special treats.


Now, I think they thought it was inclusive hav’n a pumpkin to eat at the table,

But they kinda used a pumpkin parade as an excuse to forget other animals,

And that kept driving up de’market value on my tawny Twist- and vinery too.


I certainly gots to feel’n more fruity and shiny,

See’n my baked face show’n up fancy places,

Yet, I knew der was sumth’n funny happ’n too, 

Started smelling all over dis Kittywoof Kingdom.


Sometime after dem Breed’s fancy feast’n,

Folks began drying out dem pumpkin seeds,

Started little collections and trade’n as hobby.

And dey gots to real value’n by a quick time,

Some creatures coerce value outta anything.


So Pumpkins was first a dressy table fronting, 

And then, to a stink’n rat, innards of currency.


And well, you know how a Slick-Fingered Rat Pack operates;

Always edging a coin'ed market to quickest seedy endings.


So dis dumb Pumpkinhead became strangely valuable,

Not fors my vining body needing it, but smash’n for seeds.

It's what makes me so nervous ya see, that was time ago,

And it's only ben gett’n worse with that stinker Rottenseed.


Why, dat sweaty lip Fur Pepe ben knocking on pumpkinhead doors,

Telling’m to stop fruit’n, or do’n it in defined patches way from others.


Now, thats a funny thing to say to a seed popp’n Pumpkinhead,

I don’t even realize they dropping most time, giv’n away for free,

And in dis age of currency seed, means you be rich following me.


But Pigeonrats just gotta have dat full seed-o-head consumpt’n,

Utterwise, they wants ya in a monocrop’d patch being productive.


And its dem who’ve been putt’n over-value on my fruit’n free ways,

Whether its as a Breed’s feasting, or a raty seed smashing exchange,

Feels like dey setting a trap for me, cornered, turn’n me into sumtin else,

Putt’n such value on my fruity needs, hope’n I sprout bountiful for der need.

And all da while, not offering wild animals things to meet their basic needs.


Naw, I’m just a dumb Pumpkinhead, but I feels when an oven’s be’n warmed,

Tan’t just Kittywoof either, it’s everywhere, an sum places much, much worse, 

Dey went from feasting to coining, to prison patch’n, and then only smashing.


And dats the growing stink- fast a’bake’n pumpkin treats,

Or smashed in pumpkin heads dat be rott’n at your feet!


But it's hard for Kittywoof’s haunting nighttime creatures to know,

Ta’feel da burn of daylight working with humble animals in need.

I tell’s ya, its scary to walk a’bout as your strange pumpkinself, 

Specially when you’ve got dis oddly carved, seed-spit’n mouth.


Des animals damn hungry, so a walking pumpkin might please,

Whether as a pippin on-course, or smashed-in golden currency.



bottom of page