In Memory of Nick Bognar

I called my friend Nick to talk about Clay and his horrendous poem the other day. Nick was in the same speech class with me where Clay wowed us with his line about patriotism, and he remembered the poem “The Game of Life.” We chatted awhile and reminisced about days gone by, and Nick said if anyone ever wrote a poem like that about him he hoped he would be dead and wouldn’t have to hear it. I said, “Shit, Nick—I’ll write that poem right now!” To which he replied, “Awesome, nothing would make me prouder!”
It was decided that the poem would be about Nick’s new cat and the cat allergies Nick has been struggling with since acquiring it. The poem presupposes that Nick has died from his allergies, choking to death in the night for the cat that he loves.

Coughing, coughing through the day
I love my kitty anyway

My kitty’s dander makes me sick
A sick that makes my mucus thick

He nuzzles me, his coat is soft
His purring sets my heart aloft

Coughing, coughing through the night
I love my cat with all my might

I love my cat with a love that’s true,
But I’m dead now, my face is blue

From choking on my own thick snot
My kitty’s love I still have got

Jesus walks beside me now
And when he talks it sounds like “Meow.”