an ode to flame
(antoun nabhan)
through grief and strife and luck and life
he lent his matching locks
though quadrupedal, and stripped of libido,
one look at his owner and him
side by side
their russet hair and feline pride
any person could tell
they were brothers as well
the phylogenic tree notwithstanding.
an old soul he was
and so more than a cat
our local yogi on a fish shaped mat
at our debauchery
he'd yawn toothily
the mellow red king of the flat
so the balcony in the haight is now unpatrolled
the plants and gerbil unnibbled
the orange stripey cat is, in memory, gold
and his flaming furry greatness unquibbled
we'll some day cease to brood
in the place he once stood
the streets are paved with wet food
in cat heaven.
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