Mung had his own apartment
And skittered over his linoleum floor
In time to our foot steps up the back porch stairs
For his yowling leap to the upper screen
On his storm door, spitting and hissing,
Clinging to the screen,
Letting us know, as we passed by,
The soul of one of his bigger cousins
Was trapped in this house cat,
A man eater
With at least a metaphorical slash across his eye,
And despite his size,
Given the chance,
He was fully capable of of ripping through the screen
And tearing us limb from limb,
And like that guy from Slaughter House Five,
He was putting us on his list.
No comments:
Post a Comment