had man more ambition, he'd feed his hunger to be devoid of attaining a god-status... after all: why bother feeding a plagiarism of a plagiarism, of one man's invention being passed down for another man's itemisation of lost artefacts, that can't paraphrase: an urn's equivalence toward the monetary due or shared regrets, remains... or profits.

i can't tell you what you want to know,
well, "know" - that
all it takes is a male cat tidy in
his sleeping pose,
and his female equivlanet,
stirred, jolting, angry, scared,
itchy...
     in my arms, as without my
arms holding her,
stirred, jolting, angry, scared,
itchy, ready to jump
out of the canvas
and make still-life a joke.
writing this she pretends
the austitic stare...
as all cats do...
her *evil eyes peer into me,
and i see the shards of
the omni-mirror
that chords man into being
god...
   and how belittling the "repose",
oh the agony
of the multitude in the all
encompassing request...
what sordid ambition
for man to equate himself
as god...
how follow that knock must
feel, asking
for a full bodied burden
of oak laboured over by man
to be made into a door,
with a million toothpicks:
sentenced into a doorknock:
regarding?
  good day...
what audacious claim you make!
three tier question
you ask... that is, what will be,
or what is?
well...
     a waiting bed,
the male cat fast asleep,
the female cat in figgit mode -
how i dream of the pillow,
how i dream wide awake
of placing my head onto it,
and erasing all previous dreams
from memory...
i'm sure memory can be allowed
this function:
forget the last dream,
than attaining autistic
memorisation errosion of
the alphabet...
   did i mention that i think
that feline bonsais are autistic?
i will die claiming that cats
are autistic....
i guess that's why autistic children
can comprehend a cat
akin to the cat being
able to comprehend an autistic
child.