Monday, February 04, 2008



What cats won’t do.

Cats won’t beg woefully
to be loved. They will, though,
demand affection at a time and place
of their choosing, signalled by purring
as they crouch to attack a lap
or pillow upon which you sleep.

Cats won’t heel upon command,
nor endure a pet container.
They will chase a moving toy
until bored, batting it casually away
beyond human reach to age
in some dusty grave, along with mice
once the object of unflagging interest,
pursued with the ardor of a lover,
when dead, discarded and disdained.
must be a trove of tired toy
sand mice, decaying and graying,
that humans smell, but never find.

Cats will seemingly starve rather
than eat food that doesn’t appeal,
a new diet, or an old one
suddenly not favored. They will however,
eat a parlor palm down to the trunk.
Owners of white cats are unable to wear black
and black cats quickly show the folly of white.
Great balls of fur drift from them,
signs, no doubt, of their august presence.
All of that being said,
My reincarnation will be
as a house cat, spoiled and petted,
---when I choose.

"There are many intelligent species in the universe.
They are all owned by cats."

Urban Poet

Felines squalling,
tomcats calling
in the summer, in the dark,
in the alleys, in the park,
in my head
as I lie awake in bed.

Telling all their ancient stories
of their travels and their forays
out of Egypt in the past,
arriving in my home at last.

I will serve them without pause,
since I love them, just because.

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