I think I shall never see
a poem as lovely as
a cat wrapped around
the leg of a chair
finessed in Grand Rapids,
Grecian columns
scarred with
claws and
the slashing dents
a gnawing provides,
A calico's hair
that makes me sneeze
napping
in the puddle of sunlight
until
a sudden noise
makes the animal
straighten and go rigid,
claws splayed,
insanity in its eye,
writhing on its back
as if break dancing,
tearing at the air
until it winds up on all fours
ready to tussle, rumble,
a hiss the sound of
fast, panicked air
streaming from a hot pipe,
until
it sits
and grooms its electric
tongue
with a tongue
that has tasted
the oddest things.
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