by Perry Hubbard

Created on: November 09, 2010   Last Updated: November 10, 2010

THE CAT

It slinks through my yard at its feliney pace

like he holds the mortgage on this old place.

Its eyes are so yellow, it coat fully black

I try to stare him down but he never looks back.

“Shoo, shoo go away, go back where you came

You can’t share my yard without any shame!”

He flips up his tail and shows me his rear,

Like he’s telling me when “leaving time’s” here.

I’m stuck in this lawn chair with my crutches and cast;

How can he know that I can’t run too fast?

With knowledge uncanny he turns back to stare

And yawns and stretches while I return the glare.

“I’m descended from Kings did you not know that?”

His eyes say to me, as I yell to him, “SCAT!”

My ancestors were lions the “King of the Beasts”

Your yelling and shouting won’t prompt my retreat.

I’m looking around, now, for something to throw

At that smart aleck cat who refuses to go.

My book? My coffee cup? What will it be?

I’ll nail you with something, you just wait and see.

He knows I’ve got nothing right handy I’d throw

So he prances to the flower bed and digs a fresh hole.

He quivers and shivers and looks right in my face

As he pushes a fresh one right into place!

He covers it slowly and lopes out of the bed

While my anger’s enough to blow up my head.

I fire my coffee cup, my book at him, too.

“I’m out of your range, there’s nothing you can do.”

“Get OUT! Go AWAY! You goddamned black cat!

There’s no way at all you’ll get away with that!”

If a cat can smile then this one did it right then

And sauntered away knowing it’ll be back again.

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