Benjamin Trayne

Benjamin Trayne

Monday, October 5, 2020

Cats

 


I never really wanted a cat.

But no one told the townsfolk that,

And when they wanted their pets no more,

They found their way to my porch, my door.

I am too soft, I cannot hide,

I fed them, then some came inside,

Collected on my floors, my stair,

Took over my table, slept in my chair…

I’ve come to know them very well.

It’s a bit of heaven, and of hell

Fuzzy, soft and often purring, 

 They sleep all day. When I sleep, they’re stirring

It would be great if that was all.

But they fight, and chase, and catter-waul.

You see, they don’t always get along.

‘If you’re different from me, ya don’t belong,’

They all get good food, fine kibble and fish,

Yet some will have trouble approaching the dish.

They’re fussy, reactive, and to be blunt

If they are unhappy, they’ll pee where they want.

So now, I know how God must feel.

Given all that they need, they’ll scrap and they’ll steal

Destroy their environment a day or three hence

And turn half their group into indigents.

But to be fair, cats are not smart.

And I can’t help it, they have my heart

But if I had the nerve, I’d have recourse;

With all that I spend, I could keep a horse.

***

Yet, my prayers are for us, my fellow man,

Because I can feel it, I really can.

It would be nice if I could see

A path that would make us all worthy of “free”

A way I could credit superior brains.

Instead, we are, precisely the same.