Page 72 - Leftovers V2
P. 72
Nine Lives
I feel like a cat who's used up all nine lives,
hair matted, cloudy eyes, a rotten tooth here and there, sleeping, sleeping, who knows where.
I feel like a cat who's used up all nine lives, once agile enough to catch any man in sight, now a dried up old prune, way past ripe.
I feel like a cat who's used up all nine lives, eating less, drinking more,
shrinking, shrinking, what's in store?
I feel like a cat who's used up all nine lives, stuck in a tree, afraid to come down, calling, calling — hoping to be found.
