the cat that hangs out at the warehouse where i work
one time came up to me and asked me
why the bermuda doesn’t grow as straight or verdant anymore,
to which i had to shrug
and respond that i didn’t know,
i don’t know too much about grass and that sort of shit,
but the warehouse cat still wanted to be pet,
so i obliged
my cat keeps following me around,
I think she’s planning something,
maybe reporting back to my wife
all the gross things I do when I think I’m alone,
or maybe she thinks I don’t have any friends
and feels like she needs to be my pity friend,
or maybe it’s because I seem to be able to tolerate the smell of her cat poops
so she figured I might be ok after all, I can still stay
in her house
every time my cat bites me
I feel as if I’m one step closer to her loving me unconditionally,
like she does my wife,
their bond is inseparable, and enviable,
my cat follows my wife wherever she goes,
and I’m the third wheel that often gets kicked out of bed,
but one day I’m sure that if I keep letting my cat abuse me
she will love me in her own way, or maybe I’m just projecting
Fred Aiken Writing 