That Darned Cat
It has assumed
A place
Demanding
But unsure.
Comfort is
The beast's
Drive and
Its guide.
Does it feel good?
Does scare?
Does it taste good?
Is it warm?
“Entertain Me!”
Says she.
Her terms.
Always.
It cannot be bothered.
Mice to chase
Rats to scare
Love is for fools.
Unbothered if
I care.
Whose presence alone
is an intrusion.
She is teaching me
Her language.
Mews for food,
And for scratches.
Even one for
The front door,
And one
For the rear.
I am on to her game
And practice my own
Training through
Aloofness.
It is a challenging
Course,
Ignoring pleads
For needs.
But I am a
Hard master
And I refuse to
Bend to her will.
There is a
Greater hunger.
Feed it to the
Tiger.
And here we are.
You thought
There would be
My redemption arc.
Just two stoic souls
Out-waiting the
Damnedness of
the other.
