the lamps are all broken,
the trashcans upset
and the space 'round the fishbowl is soggy
and wet

my sofa is ravaged,
the pillows in shreds -
it appears that the cat
has gone off her meds.

the dog sent a note -
it was wet with his tears -
saying he'd come on home
when the coast was clear.

I can't fault the poor cat -
I can see things her way;
(I'm quite nutty myself
ev'ry twenty-eight days)

so I'll clean up the mess
and ignore all her flaws
and I'll bandage the spots
that she marked with her claws

and I'll cuddle her,
knowing her mad ways are through,
for I've just found instructions
for kitty-cat stew.

04/06/2008

Posted on 04/07/2008
Copyright © 2025 Maria Francesca