Page 15 - The Gluckman Occasional Number One

I couldn’t be a full-time cat:
I’d end up lazy, bored and fat;
But felis envy lurks behind
The shadows of my conscious mind.

The cat makes tracks throughout the night
In search of something it can bite;
But why must the feline rover
My car’s windshield make them over?

The furry princess never knows
It’s to a surgeon that she goes,
Nor that her loyal subjects mean
For her to rule a virgin queen.

The cat brain calculates with care
How close its prey might safely dare;
Something bird brains also ponder
With attention prone to wander.

My rocker-pinched kitty’s bellows
Provoke attack by her fellows—
In primitive our human shame:
They find the victim is to blame.

A black cat dashed across my path,
And made me do the vector math:
I think he must have feared the worst
Had I happened to cross his first.