Day Two with Biggie

Another new poem about my cat. I guess I’ve turned into some crazy hermit who writes poems about his cats. I didn’t see that one coming.

 

My cat meows

like a champion,

or maybe more like

a car alarm

in the middle of the night

that nobody wants

to take ownership of.

Like last night,

at 2:45 in the morning,

when he came into the bedroom,

paddling along on his little feet,

walked up to the end of the bed,

threw back his head

and shouted

MAOWWWW.

Fuck’s sake,

Biggie,

I can’t let you

go outside.

I mean,

I love you and all

and I, myself,

am high-maintenance,

but it might be nice

to have some quiet time.

Fear not,

little kitty cat,

I will have my revenge.

You will be placed

on Instagram

with little signs

I’ll write

to share your bad behaviour

with the world.

Really,

though,

you’re just a cat,

doing cat tings.

I can’t really blame you

For the noises you make.