The cat prowls in to the yard to excrete,
A practice that I find horrible,
When you consider that I have to sweep
The foliage and collect the fallen leaves,
Inside a garbage bag. How the cat,
Walks to the grass, when no one is around,
And lets go of his muscled solids.
I wonder, what if my wife and I have a baby?
Then we will have to change nappies,
And not just droppings in the front garden.
I look at a cat, a wandering creature,
Who returns to the owner’s house,
After loitering about the place and a baby, who will need years
Of attention, safe plugs and no sharp objects
Hanging about the place.
As I look at a little child being taken in a pram,
The mother slowly pushing her uphill,
When I can’t help but wonder how I too was taken on a pram,
How I suckled my mother’s breasts and was given potty training.
Life, you realize, is not about the easy way out,
Its about the hard way in. How our baby will become a teenager,
Who will stay away from home, one summer night,
While the cat will not. I can’t help, thinking that
Somewhere out there, is a curious teenager growing up inside
The back seat of a quaking Chrysler, while I listen to
Hear the cat door shut, knowing that was the last,
I was going to hear someone enter the house that night.
How I wished to hear the door open one more time,
Footsteps walking on the creaking timber,
The fridge door being opened and then shut,
And not the eerie silence, being broken,
By a string of lazy meows.