He wanted to quit with comparisons.
He wanted a healthy new English.
He gurgled like a strangling victim,
he pawed his ears.
He wanted their smut to be impossible to translate.
When he kissed her stomach
only those two knew
what a kissed stomach was like.
He started to speak about her skin
in pithy ancient Greek.
He knew more than anyone.
He wanted to be a menace.
He hissed and spat.
He thought if this was human
he wasn't having any of it:
When they whored themselves out
a second time over filthy coffee
on the morning after,
he wanted to rip out their throats.
He just wanted to protect himself.
(The Cat poems are being published in the university magazine next year!)