Behold, the most awesome
poem you have ever seen (assuming you've had your eyes closed since
birth until this very moment)!
There came a scratching,
to which I flew
Upon a morning fresh with dew.
Scratching and crying from behind the door
Charged my brain and I said, "Nevermore!"
'Twas not a raven beyond the portal,
Nor a beast, nor a ghost, nor a thing immortal.
Only a cat coming in from the mist
That arched its back and spitted and hissed.
It walked in the door after quieting down,
Curled up on the floor and gave me a frown.
The creature was damp and wet to the feel;
Cold and clammy like its favorite meal.
With sorrow and sympathy I lifted its girth
And warmed it with fire within my own hearth.
There then came a spark and it lit the cat's tail.
Bursting in flame but the cat did not wail.
The burning of cat gave birth to my muse
As I watched the feline alight like a fuse.
I beat the cat's tail to make it go out,
But the fire burned on--still cat did not shout!
It roasted away like a lazy hot day,
Yawning and purring right there it did stay.
I picked up the feline and threw it to water,
Into the toilet--the only close quarters.
Wet in the bowl the cat did not stir.
The flame, it burned on, the cat, it did purr.
I watched the cat's tail as it slowly burnt off
While the smoke in the air forced me to cough.
I witnessed the flame burn to the cat's rump
I shielded my eyes as it sounded, "Kurump!"
In a violent explosion the cat blew apart
Like a bloodied hair ball--a demolishing art!
The porcelain bowl shattered and spilled
All of its contents with which it was filled.
Who would have known the cat did not bite?
Instead it was charged to kill me on sight;
Assassinate me by somebody's need
To put me to death using such a strange breed.