ForkWord
Poems by Inchiki
Cat
my dream cat
would live in the window box
and stare out at all the other cats
and the humans
as we all swam around in the fish bowl of life
he would dream he could drop his paw in
and flick us out onto the carpet
where he would watch us flitter and spasm
for amusement
but nothing would ruffle his perfect fur
except for an imperfect pat
for my dream cat
my actual cat
has an unusual aroma
from the dung he rolls in
but he likes being washed which is a bit weird for a cat
he often runs away when i enter the room
like he's been up to mischief
and purrs like a lancaster bomber
at irritating hours of the morning
his long fur quickly forms dreadlocks
and collects slugs and grass seeds
like christmas baubels and tat
that's my actual cat
