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A cat poem with a moral |
| Wait. A toe will appear. Or a tail. Under the blue curtain. Wait. I'll pounce, expand, puffed fur, in your cereal bowl swim in Wheaties, to your despair. My sister is white, pinked lips and nose, unwary. So unwary! Lapping water neatly onto tongue. Hug the ground violence coiled, shiver twice. I roar! Kimba the great sailing, airborne defying Newton. Gravity is for sissies. She flees. I chase! POUNCE! EXPLODE! (SHE BITES!) I FLEE! ESCAPE! Exile in clothes hamper. Very uncool. The moral? People who are good, when they die, return as cats. People who are bad, when they die, come back owned by cats. |