A Tale of Two Kitties

Okay, ignoring one of Dunner's New Rules about posting poetry on the blog, I think, considering how heavy several of my last posts have been, I'll give you something a bit more lighte, "A Tale of Two Kitties."

A TALE OF TWO KITTIES

Melissa,
inimitable lesbian
of the first order,
Calls to her Calico from a second story window:
“Sappho, Dear Sappho,” she cries.
“Sappho, my lovely,” she sighs.

Sappho
(known to have slept
with every Tom on the block)
Crawls slowly from the alley
on wobbly cat paws.
She awkwardly scales the four foot fence
and feebly meows, I believe,
regarding the nocturnal past tense.

Meanwhile,
in the building next door,
Lithe, blond-haired Billy
cuddles Oscar the Persian
who only dreams of
sweet amorous excursions
beyond the front door.
Becoming increasingly bored
with the nightly perversions
of Billy and friends,
Oscar plans his escape
with visions of sweet copious gyrations;
oh, carnal relations
with she-felines galore.

Sappho,
having indulged sweet Melissa
the entire day long,
Creeps toward the window
toward the succulent song
of the sinewey sleeze
of Alley Cat Toms.

Oscar,
sidestepping Billy and
the same old sight of
the lithe, blond-haired bottom
being entered (a la Sodom),
Noses the screendoor and
bounds down the steps
sniffing the air for
primordial scents.

Sappho and Oscar
to the alley they go…
Oh, Sappho,
Oh, Oscar,
meow
meow

Closer they come
in sensuous heat,
Faster they move
their little cat feet.
Oh, what joy
when finally they meet.
Sappho and Oscar
Oh, how lovely, how sweet.

Weeks pass by
then
Melissa,
distraught after cuddling dear Sappho,
Buzzes my door:
“She’s pregnant!” the cry,
holding Sappho aloft
pointing directly to signs
dear kitty’s been got.
“I just never thought it would happen this way,”
Melissa blurts out, wiping a tear away.

Then,
lithe, blond-haired Billy
knocks on my door.
With Oscar in hand.
He paces the floor
and decries the fact
Oscar’s privates are sore
from sticking it to…
“Some Calico whore!”

Oh,
two and two still make four.
Melissa and Billy
realize the score.
Their darlings have coupled
in a hetero way.
Oh, what a curse
when your kitties aren’t gay.

So,
Melissa builds a box
for the imminent births.
Billy knits sweaters
for little kitty girths.

Sappho feels sick,
immobile she is.
Oscar feels pain
when he tries to whiz.
You see,
he got fixed;
a neuter he is…
No more carousing.
No more jizz.

Finally,
the day arrives
with Melissa, Billy and me beside
Watching dear Sappho
deliver her pride.
Oscar,
upon the bookshelf,
attentively sighs.

Weeks pass away and
the kitties grow fat.
Melissa silkscreens:
FREE – NICE CATS!
She then adds a line
to assure a good home:
ONLY LESBIANS AND GAY MEN
NEED BOTHER TO PHONE!

Soon all are taken
and Melissa decides
Sappho must have
her little tubes tied.
To the Vet they proceed
where Sappho is fixed.
Further pregnancy, my dears,
is everlastingly nixed.

So,
Sappho and Oscar
grow lazy and fat.
Indifferent they are
even to rats.
Oh, what a fate
besmirches their days;
What a terrible price to pay
For a simple roll in the hay.

A lesson there is
in this tale of woe,
All of you kitties
should certainly know:
If those who feed you
are preponderantly gay,
Discretion’s a must
when together you lay.

So,
practice the rhythm
the Pope say is great;
Just pull it right out
DON’T PROCREATE!
‘Cause neuter might be
your miserable fate
if you’ve jutted the jizz
or your period’s late!