I rarely write poems but I woke up with a hangover one morning and felt compelled to write this…
Weird neighbour cat,
I’ve known you three years now,
You still confound me,
Why do you arch your back,
And lift your two front legs off the ground,
Every time I stroke you?
Do I not stroke hard enough?
Why, when you walk through my yard,
Do you always stop and stare at me,
Through the lounge room window,
Like you’re still surprised I live here?
And why is your fur always sticky?
You have the kind of hoarse meow,
That’s sound like you have been taking drugs,
For 20 years,
I imagine if you were a person,
You would sound like Kathleen Turner,
With a Russian accent (you ARE a Russian Blue),
When I come home drunk late at night,
You jump out at me,
From various hiding places,
And take 10 years off my life,
I imagine you chuckling (hoarsely),
To all your cat mates about it,
I still don’t know your name,
I tried to look at your tag once and you bit me,
I’m not game to look again,
I imagine it is something like Gerald or Doreen,
You wouldn’t pull off Fluffykins,
Ah weird neighbour cat,
You piss me off and gross me out,
Yet I am so very fond of you,
I have settled somewhere in fond-tempt,
As you make life that little more interesting.