they fought over fattened sardines.
a can rolling with summer’s shine.
they fought over an evening indoors.
and I was happy with a pigeon’s demise.
I understand how magnetized
a business card can be,
when squirrels nod and prettily boast
about nuts they gather, three times quick.
my friends, in actuality,
are roommates, smiling widely.
scheming, almost nightly.
glue in a bottle of your brother’s shampoo.
I blink at another brown recluse,
not exactly wishing a viral ill.
but if they scream a bit too loud,
I won’t hyperventilate a minute prolonged.
*Cat No. 26 of the 500 Cats Project