Notice: Remember, it's only poetry, and I love my cat (and my girlfriend) dearly =DI wrote this poem last night when I was pretty stoned after smoking two bowls of ganja and then two bowls of resin. I'm actually VERY pleased with this poem. It incites such a visceral reaction. Anyway, enjoy! My Girlfriend, My Cat I had a girlfriend once who absolutely infuriated me, made me shake with anger at some of the things she said. Out of all the things I could have said back, too many times I chose to walk away, object conscientiously to my ego. One day after holding it in, I just let her go, never having said a thing. I had a cat once who was orange and so friendly you could wear him like a hat atop your head, wouldn't move. My girlfriend and I named him after the Jim Henson character, Fizzgig. You could pick him up and he'd not stop purring for hours; you could even take him to bed, where he'd lie on your stomach as you slept, purring nonstop through the night. Fizz knew to stay off the counters, but sometimes he'd climb on top of them anyway, and when he did, I would bolt to grab him, furious he didn't learn the first time. If I caught him by the scruff, I would smack him three or four times on the nose, much harder than I should've and way angrier than I should have been; if he ran, I would chase him for as long as it took, often times to beneath a bed, then when I grabbed him I would beat him harder for no conscious reason until his ears folded back and his eyes closed and he turned his cheek, bracing for the smack, as if in apology. When I was able to reconnect with my senses, I'd drop him to the floor with a kitty thud, he thankful to be alive, and I'd let him go.