it is a cat-scratch in the arch of my tenderfoot
this swelling, welling in my soul
back arched and forehead burning
at the brush of your outstretched paw.
hairs upended and mewling
black yesterdays slink under ladders
splattered in the shabby patina
of abandoned masterpieces.
steeped in antiquated ammonia
vintage carpets curl in threadbare sedition
silent rivers of involuntary revulsion
swiped away with defiant wrist wipes
these salted choleric commentaries, unleashed
lest you read weakness in the tracks
overlaid in the dust of my disgust.
i know the rules to this game
as I clamber broken rungs, clattering
upward and away from the furballs
you hock up by the scores, licking
yourself in depraved self- gratification.
your nine lives evaporate, evanescent
and vitreous, recalled by the fiends
that birthed them. i humor you
and watch you disintegrate