Two poems about cats. One dark, one light.

Foul oblivion strung out on static walls

Squeezing and draining every ounce

of moisture out of my tenuous existence

Exposing blank white folds

I grapple with the people that

Seek my attention, that seek my very brain

And all my cat can do is blink

Apologies, kind sir or madame,

You see,

I am of that certain

Villainous variety,

Yes.

Those who lie.

Compulsively.

I would not say pathological, but yes,

There is a degree of

Pathos.

And you cat, sir or madame,

Well, if I am to speak the truth,

(and you have been properly forewarned)

Curiousity killed it.