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The food in my bowl Is old, and
more to the point Contains no tuna.
So you want to play. Will I claw at dancing string? Your ankle's closer.
There's no dignity In being sick - which is why I don't tell you where.
Seeking solitude I am locked in the closet. For once I need you.
Tiny can, dumped in Plastic bowl. Presentation, One star; service: none.
Am I in your way? You seem to have it backwards: This pillow's taken.
Your mouth is moving; Up and down, emitting noise. I've lost interest.
The dog wags his tail, Seeking approval. See mine? Different message.
My brain: walnut-sized. Yours: largest among primates. Yet, who leaves for work?
Most problems can be Ignored. The more difficult Ones can be slept through.
My affection is conditional. Don't stand up, It's your lap I love.
Cats can't steal the breath Of children. But if my tail's Pulled again, I'll
I don't mind being Teased, any more than you mind A skin graft or two.
So you call this thing Your "cat carrier." I call These my "blades of death."
Toy mice, dancing yarn Meowing sounds. I'm convinced: You're an idiot.
No place has more charm Than the book you try to read. Read my fur instead.
(Stephen Colley, San Antonio)