Tolerance
If you have cats that sometimes go outdoors,
You will get fleas.
Many people consider fleas to indicate
a moral failing not unlike joblessness,
or voting Democrat.
Churchgoing people certainly never get fleas;
God would not allow it
unless of course
the sincerity of the people in question
was generally thought to be suspect.
God enjoys a good plague on the unrighteous,
and flea infestations probably amuse Him.
If you have cats that sometimes go outdoors,
you may, from time to time, feel wrongly judged
by those who lack the courage
to have cats that sometimes go outdoors.
These people cannot stomach the realities of nature,
Like the horrific carnage of fierce hunters devouring half their prey
and leaving the rest disemboweled on the welcome mat,
or the demonic cacophony of forlorn heartache
when the stupid beast is stuck outside in the rain at midnight.
Or: fleas.
Those people retreat into comfortable cowardice,
unlike Noah who wrangled two cats of every fucking type—
tigers, lions, jaguars, siamese, tabbies, torties—
onto a boat—
a boat for Christ’s sake—
and who boldly faced forty days and forty nights
of litter box cleanup.
If you think Noah, a truly righteous soul
if ever there was one,
never suffered a flea bite,
then perhaps it’s time to rethink how you feel about
people who have cats that sometimes go outdoors.
Poetry Month 2018
I’ve resolved a few times to write a poem a day during the month of April, and I actually succeeded once. I’m again trying it out. No idea what each day will bring. Some light verse, some politics, some “oh shit I didn’t write anything today” haikus. If you read one and feel moved to comment, please do. If you want to share your poetry, please share!
PS: Today’s poem prompt was provided by some stupid cat
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