Dead cats still purr
At
ten fifty seven pm I think I was buzzed by the spirts of all of my dead cats
And
so I knew the world had turned, the wheel had moved on
Things
had changed, the rules were different,
That
I had crossed into some strange new realm of the possible
I
miss them but wish them well
It
is pleasing that they run together
In
precisely the way that cats don’t.
My
cats do.
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