I can hear them
Slinking through undergrowth,
Soft paws padding with purpose,
Yellow eyes sizing up prey.
At home, their owners
(but who can ever own a cat –
rather they own you)
Dump turds from litter trays.
Instinct makes them killers.
From birth they swat the toy mouse,
Claws and teeth intended to maim,
But no, it’s just ‘play’.
When the human world sleeps,
They slink in the shadows,
Fucking, fighting, eating -
A feline revolution underway.
Should mankind fail as a species,
I know who will be waiting to follow:
A vicious army of furry ninjas
Who lick themselves clean every day.
©shaun patrick green 2022
