From the Eyes of a Crestfallen Cat

22 Apr 2014

Comfortable on the kitchen table,
my furry tail draped and
dangling freely,
I hear my owner
dealing, again, on the phone.
He glances for listeners (except me).
None. They plan a large
cocaine exchange next week.
I thought he laughed at my "meows"
because he was amused. And I,
even with my night-vision, did not
see that he laughs because
I'm the only 'cat' who really knows him,
and all I can do about it is "meow."
This is a cat's frustration.

[circa 1988]

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