Duke has grown bored.

His weird parents

playing at their computers

for 20 hours plus.

He goes from one room to the other.

Inside then out,

outside, then in.

Running, jumping, sleeping

Begging for morsels

Begging for meals

Begging just to beg.

I danced with him.

He wasn’t amused.

I gave him superior rubbies,

he bit me.

He is getting older, cantankerous.

Much like his human father.

He knows this ritual happens every year,

but he lets me know,

this is unacceptable behavior.

A continuation will not be tolerated.

A cat has needs, the most important of which-

he is more important than any poem.