I am whistling “Patience”
And dancing naked in my kitchen
High upon my tippy toes
Twirling two butter knives
In my bony hands
While the black cats
Wink at me from the La-Z-Boy,
Wonder what’s gotten into me,
Whiskers twitching
With a purring disinterest
And a patient, murderous way.
Experimentally clever and great writing my friend. 🙂 Love the imagery in this poem. 🙂
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