Catsploitation

A line of cats

stretching

from the orb

to Kingdom come.

.

You are a cat,

fickle as can be,

whiskers tilted up,

you wind your way

around the throng,

purring and hissing,

cool as you please.

.

Interspersed around you,

are cars.

With big orange eyes,

white teeth,

and red tongues.

They roar through the night,

taking what they please.

.

They are powerful,

they are strong,

they are fate.

They cause it

and bring an end to it.

.

This leads

to envy

among the felis catus,

who seek to emulate

and make life

purr-fick-ally

easy.

.

Around your corner

a gray-striped cat

stalks.

Around your corner

the cat integrates himself

in your life.

Around your corner,

the cat sleeps away

your hunting hours

and becomes a mewling

dependent.

.

He acts big,

he acts powerful,

like a car,

and you sway

to his spinal twitch.

You aren’t the first

and you think,

“I’m a strong cat,

it’s nice to not be alone.”

and you grin.

.

The line of cats,

is clamoring,

food is becoming scarcer,

and the gray-striped one,

tilts his mouth,

wider, and wider.

Yellow eyes glowing

and bright teeth,

poised.

.

Cat fight.

.

You’re not able

to be a cool cat

any longer,

you can’t take it.

Your whiskers are bent

out of whack.

You straighten your spine,

and with much hissing

and mewling,

a lone cat again.

.

Looking ahead in the line,

you see the gray-striped cat

cosying up

to a calico.

You look away.

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