This cat has a tongue that sticks out
From behind sharp teeth does it sprout
She hasn’t a care
How we all stare
We’ll never know what it’s about

heather is a feminine body
in a suede chair under charcoal ceilings

perry is wearing
sweaters to evening dinners

katie is a black light poster
in newspaper print

alex is an origami sailboat

spoon feed yourself some more cathleen,
the cats are waiting

My Relationship With You

I give
and you take
I give
and you take
I give
and you take.

This relationship,
built on what I do for you,
and you give little back,
a look, a word (in your fashion)
should I step out of line.

And still
and still,
I (like the ancient Egyptians),
obey you,
my feline masters.

James E. Roethlein copyright 2021

I listen to the endless cries of cats at night
Lonely and helpless,
Abandoned and forgotten
Living in a narrow, deserted alleyway.
I’ve left cans of food for them,
But that’s not what they want
They want love
To feel protected and sheltered
By the sheer warmth of compassion
Some may want to be reunited with their mothers
Or from their owners’.
No matter how many times these poor animals were left out in the cold
Or met with the scorching rays of the sun
We’ve neglected them to the point where
Anything better than what they have right now will suffice.
The next time I hear their cries
I can’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of guilt
Part of me wants to take every one of them out of their miserable lives
But some of these cats had lives
Some of us overlooked that
Walked right pass a cat that belonged to someone who didn’t want them anymore
Threw them out like the piles of trash
In the alleyway.

it was a cuckoo who flew the coup
took wing from his nest
off to push out eggs, like ***-pa
just another everyday coup d'etat

leopard leaping from his perch
pushing onward toward his prey
a small friend to no feline
trapped in a quick sand
left only to bay

you are these animals

She sets down
her very large glass of Malbec
sighs and lights
a poorly rolled
******-like cigarette
the look on her face
bothers me deeply
I open my mouth
with good intentions
and probably should have
said something like
"Are you ok?"
but what came out
went something like
You are nothing to me
just an **** potato
there's almost nothing
that you could provoke
within anyone
except for the cats
Yeah,
I'd bet you could start
the feline revolution
with your poisoned toenails
and mashed carrots
not even seventeen vats of ****
could make you more slippery
No,
I don't want your wet cake
just bees,
endless mayonnaise
and cherry flavoured toxic yoghurt

My cat’s become so critical
of the pieces that I write
he kneads to express his opinion
and he always thinks he’s right.

He twitches his ear-itation
if I don't write in Senryus.
If what I write displeases him
he’s under the bed for refuge.

He’s worse than many teachers -
his reviews are seldom neutered -
he pointedly wags that twitchy tail
or cat-calls disapproval.

He laid across my laptop
for half the afternoon
‘til I promised an ode to tuna
which earned purrs of hallelujah!