BLATHER REVIEW

The Kitty

Once upon a twilight stormy,
while I found a beer to pour me,
I tried to read a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore.
Suddenly there came a yapping
as if some dog just finished crapping
and wanted to escape the storm that's just beyond my kitchen door.
crying out for drying out
just beyond my kitchen door.
Quoth the kitty; "Nevermore."

O, how distinctly I remember
it was in the morning tender
as I ate my bagel with cream cheese and Red Rose tea;
how the canine bit the feline
for no reason I could devine
other than: that dog is bored and jumpy as a flea.
still adored but really bored,
and jumpy as a flea.
Quothed the kitty: "This is war!"

Try, I dare ya, try explaining
to a kitty that it's raining
and the doggie must come in and out of the evening downpour.
Claws a-clamping on the curtains
as I move, with motive certain,
stumble, wrestle, toward the threshold of that noisy kitchen door
frightened meowing my allowing
entry through the kitchen door.
Quoth the kitty: "Singapore."

What the hell was that cat saying
as I let the dog in, baying,
uttering such strange a name as West Malasia's Singapore?
Has she gone completely bonkers?
Maybe I should move to Yonkers.
Maybe there I wouldn't be allowed to have a pet no more;
to have a spot of tea, but not
allowed to have a pet no more.
Quoth the kitty: "Feed me more."

Okay, I know, I fizzled out pretty bad there. Hey, I'm out of pr@ctice. ;D