The Cat and the Butterfly

By Timothy Reed

Ah! How fairly you flit, you fluttery buttery little plaything,

You take my Meow Mix breath away, and make my Siamese heart sing.

Nevertheless, how long can I endure this bated breath before

I systematically and playfully cause you to breathe no more.

I’m perched, ready to pounce, but I’ll wait a second, perhaps,

Before I bat a razor sharp claw into your delicate thorax.

Gently, just a little flesh wound, to instigate your imminent collapse,

Stealing your flight capability, while briefly saving your delightful fluttering agility.

Now another bleeding blow from my paw, this time to your abdomen, 

To further abdicate your billowing beauty to my feline domain.

I bat you and whack you, toss you and thwack you, 

Strike you and sock you, swat you and slam you!

You’re so entertaining in your final flapping throes of agony.

This is better than catnip in its all-out ecstasy!

Ah, now I’ll lounge by you as a break from the whirring,

To savor the craziness, a little bored by your lack of stirring.

Finally, a barbaric bite to your proboscis,

As exciting as getting Best Actor at the Oscars!

I place your mangled corpse on her white carpet, to display my vanity.

I appear aloof, but inward I’m laughing at my master’s profanity.