Cattitude

Cattitude    (for Hendrix, who is only this snarky upon being waked rudely from a nap.)

 
He wakes,
Opening one baleful green cat's eye
Cat nap done, for now
Pink tongue licking, flicking
Streaking sleek fur

His cat's paws stretch
Blackberry thorn claws flexing,
Needles snagging fabric
Kneading a memory of
Long ago mother's milk

Rising, arched body,
Black as Friday the thirteenth,
As a witches dream
Elegant, plush, velvet
Cat's pajamas
Elongating in an impossible stretch

Cat's meow drawn forth,
Part yawn
Part immediate insistent demand
For canaries, cream
And the head of the cat down stairs

Prince of cats?
Disdainful tail.
Hell no!
I am the Emperor

And while we are clearing up cat tales,
I have no one's tongue but my own
And would never
Subject my paws
To a hot tin roof.
Not in ANY of my wildest
Nine lives.