From the Mouth of a Cat

I will fight you

puny human,

you’re just a giant rat

in a baseball cap.

Stroke me,

stroke me now;

stroke me now

before I start to growl

and howl your tiny

house down.

You call that a garden?

Mrs Jones down the road

grows roses,

and she feeds me fishies

when I’m feeling greedy,

which is almost

all of the time.

I don’t have time

for your whining;

I sleep all night

and I sleep all day,

and then try to escape

when you’re away from me.

I remember Ancient Egypt;

the pharaohs had nothing

on me, my sweet.

Milk.

Bring me milk.

Bring me milk

from the empty skulls

of a thousand virgins.

Hold the door,

Hodor,

you’ve got to let

me out.

Let me out.

Let me out.

Let meowt.

Let meowt.

Meowt.

Meow.

Meow.

Meow.