Slipper cat,
bed cat,
blotch-coated beast;
He’s been sleeping in corners
I’ve provided for him
ever since the day he was born.
The wimpiest cry
for a big tom
I’ve ever heard,
opening his mouth
in a poignant whimper
any time he’s got a whim to be satisfied.
And stick him in a crate
to go somewhere — whew,
you’d think a change of pace
was a death sentence! He doesn’t quit
yowling until he’s released, then hides
bitter and sad for hours after he’s free.
Makes me wonder
how much he’s taking in
as he lies there, one eye open,
ear cocked to the atmosphere
all around. Learning is a lifelong process
after all.
Dark Matter 
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