When all outdoors is baked in heat
The thought of something hot to eat
Might make your turncoat tummy cringe
So serve it something cold: Revenge!
I’m not really hungry
But not really not
So I drift to the kitchen
To see what we’ve got
Even though I know well
Well before I begin
That there’s nothing I want
So I drift back again
To the dent on the couch
Where I pick up my book
And I read till I need
Once again to go look…
While reading on the sofa, I
Decided I was hungry, so
I climbed the stairs to where the cat
Lay napping (on my pillow, though
I doubt I’ll ever fathom why
She likes it, or my sweaty hat).
I plucked her from her slumber spot
And held her to my chest as we
Descended to the kitchen where
I showed her all the food for me
Inside the fridge. “Dismissed. You’re not
Required, now I know it’s there.”
She clawed and yowled to the ground;
Belatedly it came to me:
The sink in which she gets her bath
Was just a step away. A wee
Aroma reached my nose; I found
My shirt was damp. The aftermath…
Gras means “fat” and Tuesday’s Mardi;
Carnival’s a massive party
Where, for fear of Lenten rigor,
People’s appetites grow bigger.
Tuesday’s fat because it’s eating
Everything it might be needing
From tomorrow ’til the Bunny
Comes on Easter. What’s not funny
Is how many empty bellies
Can’t indulge in sweets and jellies
Or a simple slice of bread
Today—they’ve spent their cash instead
On shelter or a tank of gas.
The only way that pain will pass
Is if community Food Banks
Can help them out, so let’s give thanks
That almost all of us can say
We won’t be struggling today
To feed our children or ourselves,
And help the Food Banks restock shelves
Stripped bare each day by famine’s greed.
That’s worth a Carnival, indeed!
Importunate, that’s my cat.
Impertinent? She’s also that.
She’s glad to be whatever works,
From fool to fuzzy sack of jerks
To drama queen, if food’s the prize.
She’s Hunger in a cat disguise.
Try and tell her, Take a powder!
She hears, Could you yowl louder?
Not content with daily bread,
She wants it hourly instead,
And could you cut the crusts off, please?
Call her greedy, she agrees,
But in a good way, she’ll amend.
She’s happiest when we pretend
Each meal’s the first she’s had today.
At last! she’ll purr. Don’t walk away!
This empty bowl won’t fill itself,
And there’s a box upon that shelf
That has my picture on it, so
How ’bout you grab that ‘fore you go?
I’ll put my foot down. Soon! Not yet.
Right now, I have to feed my pet.
My wallet isn’t all of me,
It’s just the part that people see.
Had I just pennies to my name
Who’d notice when I left or came?
I like my anonymity
But only rich folk eat for free
And since I like to snorf ‘n’ swaller
More than hiding…here’s a dollar.
I baked a pie.
It’s cooling now.
The scent is drifting in, though.
My borborygmus is so loud
I nearly missed the timer!