The Ways Of Zen Poem by Sam Preve

The Ways Of Zen



bags, paper, and boxes

made into little shreds

all over the house,

whines when I walk in the door.

crunches of hard food,

as you munch with pointy teeth,

little belled-balls jingle

while I try to sleep.

running into the living room and back,

you leap into whacko mode and bounce attack,

following us each room we move to,

you meow, concerned with what we do?

I think, you think

it is us who entertain you.

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