On Being a Cat

He might as well be a cat.

Making a huge winding of cat towers -

Black holes, ladders, carpet spaces,

Pendulum swinging rats,

A coiling green ball of yarn

Goes from one to the other -

To the next – a risky one

On a floating shelf

An old fishbowl

To keep them jumping

The gold scales shining

From the gold peering

In through the window -

He sits in the center.

Legs folded like pretzel

He wings the green yarn

Around each post

As the lazy green-eyed

Cats chase each other,

Curl up on their favorite places

And sharpen their claws noisily.