The Cat Comes & Does His Cat Things Poem by Dónall Dempsey

I thank him for that.
I stroke his fur & he purrs.

He stretches & stretches his stretches.

He vainly attempts to knead my belly into
some sort of shape
that a cat can take a nap in.

But my belly fat defeats him.
He gives in & naps on my lap.

He turns over like a motor
like a sleep & purr generator.

After an hour he deigns to wake
& with a smikr on his face

allows me to feed him.

I'm grateful to my cat for being
a cat
&
for doing
whatever & whenever
the mood takes him.