April 26, 2020 just another rainy day...

I began crafting the following words

late morning eating me whey and curds

never able (though quite willing) ugh

for constipated excretory system to...

function optimally and make turds.

In highland manor convalescent home

ideal to buzzfeed subconscious with a

long catnap until... free animal equality

i.e. meaning declaration of indepence

encompassing all creatures great and

small, whereby each breathing, living,

cohabiting with kvetching Homo or

lesbian sapien as well other organisms

gifted to roam across terra firma all

their natural unfettered existence.

Damp and cold spring weather purr fect fur mice elf

when yours truly (me oh), a stray cat in previous life,

with cheesy mouselike timidity, stoutly readily avow

outsize feline family members, experienced powwow

among fodder, when boxed in corner, I litter lee mutter

against feral general instinctual lionized in mane know

wing, (albeit audacious, ferocious, vicious...) tigress

calling me hey you Eufrates cat, chicken sh*t, getting

browbeaten meekly accepting, I brought humiliation

bowing passively giving up feebly accepting furry us

kickstarting, ripsnorting, urinating madding crowd,

nor standing proudly on all faux pas inept descience

non verbally communicated threats how sissyfuss me

best be declawed locked & linkedin and with lucky dog

effeminate mystique (er... rather mistake) born as runt

plainly evincing, categorically jackknifing, trending

embarrassing brother and sister near kin courtesy mine

unpardonable finicky behavior catnip never endowed

deserved more egregious than petty file within glorious

historical annals regarding Felis Domesticus, therefore

deeming unacceptable "fake catatonic" diagnosis allow

wing no holds barred, all barred holes la cage aux folles

assignation, designation, integration... imprisoned with

aforementioned outcast species, and/or repurposed cow

feed since unanimous conclusion no snowball chance

in hell (low kitties) decreed by none other than Morris

nsync with animated commercial starring Sylvester both

though ostracized caving into rich money deals cash cow

role their saving Grace (and private Ryan) neither well

received (more so treated) outkast within immediate family

nevertheless everywhere taxidermists experienced affection

despite catalepsis poised to strike stance, and highbrow

folks entombed themselves with selfies and roaring whisk

herd manner of nine kampf existences exemplified heyday

courtesy of each special fearless cate, whose track record

boasted untold unfortunate victims comprising killing

fields, thus wimpy creature regarding chance Matthew

Scott Harris never honored as dignified compared to how

his brethren and cistern forever appraised with to meow,

prey tell savoring flesh as tender vittles kitty chow chow,

which genetic fate automatically cost first of nine lives

(mine) lovely bones feeble, who wanted nothing more

than to curl himself in a ball and sleep blissfully,

eternally and merrily dreaming about Lady and Tramp

poe' wit out making sense and sensibility doth lean.