In living flesh
there she lays on the desk
eying me like a piece of meat
her collar and hair, so proper and neat
we lock eyes, I succumb to her seducing stare
I start to pet her body almost naked and bare
she sees my crab cakes and eats them like a beggar ever so poor
she stares back at me as she cat walks to the door
her tail, wagging, her hair still proper and neat
that's exactly how she is, my cat Mrs. Keats
Sep 4, 2011
Sep 4, 2011 at 10:17 PM UTC
In living flesh
there she lays on the desk
eying me like a piece of meat
her collar and hair, so proper and neat
we lock eyes, I succumb to her seducing stare
I start to pet her body almost naked and bare
she sees my crab cakes and eats them like a beggar ever so poor
she stares back at me as she cat walks to the door
her tail, wagging, her hair still proper and neat
that's exactly how she is, my cat Mrs. Keats
I wrote this poem when I asked my girlfriend to throw me a little starter. "In living flesh" was her words. This is the product
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