Jonathan Berger's Poetry: Poem of the Day

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THE CAT Her cat knows. The cat knows my sinister plans, my evil schemes. The cat, somehow, senses what goes on in my head, in a way that his owner can't. The cat suspects my purpose, my needs. She doesn't. Oblivious, she allows me to plot and plod ever closer to my goal And the only one who suspects, The only one who's wise eyes show that he knows Is that darned cat. Somehow, I must do something to that pussy before it's out of the bag.