Half A Simile Looking For Its Mate Poem by Glen Kappy

1

Our cat came limping home
with his left hind paw injured.
This just a day or two after
he showed up trying to walk
with his left front paw hurting.
On his second visit the vet
reported that nothing's broken—
guessed how it might have happened—
and charged too much for her time
and the pills to be crushed into his food.
She advised he should not be let out
for which he shows no inclination
curled most of the time in what might be
the cat version of the fetal position.


2

To get to the point of this poem—
a cat's gotta do what a cat's gotta do
so we had to get a litter box and litter
put the set-up in the foyer and despite
my concern about its unfamiliarity
he took right to it thus saving
the large plant in the corner
from his using the soil in its pot.
So, finally, here's the thing—
the kitty litter is getting everywhere—
not just near the box that holds it
not just spread on the foyer floor
but even on the sofa where he curls
the litter apparently stuck in his paws.

The litter everywhere, unwelcome
spied on wood and tile floors
crunching under one's feet—
there's half a simile for a poet—
it's like… it's like… it's like…
what is it like? is what I ask
and leave it for you to finish it.