Obligatory Cat Poem

I left my cat in San Francisco
with John, and his sister, Miss Doe;
so when I went "to stand and stare"
I had to stop 'cos Sid weren't there.

Poor Sid, I swapped 'im for a gun
to shoot some breakfast for me mum,
but then the cornflakes would not fight:
I wrecked their nest with great delight.

He said to me, once, as he flew
that cats with wings have dreadful glue
which is why, when rain's a blight,
their wings de-feline in mid-flight.

This absence was acknowledgement
of what I told me management:
"this stuff, you know, can never pass;
'tis sunlight shining from me arse".

In that chilly San Francisco
I sold my cat to Alice, Miss Doe.
Ten years later he's snuck back
and now, again, dull words, I hack.

Something awful this way comes
inspired by evolution's sums,
biting love and biting cheer -
you bet I'm drinking too much beer.

image: po

Dylan Harris

it's my hands
my difficulty with melancholy
hence the coldness
fear in flight, god
dog sea
push pop

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