contemplating revenge

April 16, 2012 § 3 Comments

I know she was up there
lapping away at the butter
I had failed to cover again

for all of the stealth that has
been attributed to her kind
she always sounds like a ten pound
ham steak hitting the floor
when she hears me coming

I’ll round the kitchen doorway
and question sternly
a creature who’s only
response will be
nonchalant grooming with a paw
and a casual rub
on the leg of my pajama pants

as she saunters away
I get down the bag of
food to fill her dish
half tempted to lick each
piece as I do

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