Steven Storrie

TWO PUSSIES

 

They’re in my garden

Jawing at one another
Nose to nose
Whisker to whisker
Claw to claw.
I gaze at them intently
And wonder why they spend
So much time together
When they clearly
Hate each other’s guts
One swipes at the other

And they screech and whine

Move back
Come together again
The black one tries to leave

Tentatively

Its eyes always on the other
Waiting for a sneak attack
It thinks better of it
Stays.

The smoky one seems to be
The boss.
It prowls and dominates
Its land
like this was ancient Egypt
and it knew it was the Queen
like it belonged to Sheba
or Nefertiti
or one of those other ones
that would have made it a God.
I’d love to know what

The hell they’re saying to

Each other
These two pussies
In my back yard.
Eventually they strut

Slowly along the fence
And finally leave
Out of sight
Nothing settled
Nothing gained.
Wait.

Why?
What the hell
did you think
This poem was
gonna be
About?

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