My Inner Cat

My inner cat automatically expects
doors to open for me.

It doesn’t worry itself
about where the next meal is coming from.

It likes to warm itself
in front of the fire in winter.

It likes its sleep.
And it likes a mad half hour now and again.

I think if the door didn’t open,
and I walked straight into it, my inner cat,

embarrassed,
would sidle into a corner and disown me.

I don’t always listen to it. However hard it tries
it will never convince me that I have nine lives.


Be more dog?