The Brush Off (Day 6)

When I first brushed your cat
she started rolling
all over the chair
like she put had on
way too much sun tan lotion.

She would move left
then right

north

then a forgetful south

her fangs flashing
friendly as a hand generade,

She would flick
her tail in the air
like a magician
and treat my brush
like a cricket ball.

She would throw me
the most dirty look
that would spell out murder
if I didn't stop,

the most horrific form
of torture

starting world war three

four

and five

before then totally forgiving me
when I kissed her on the head
once I had finished.


(Day 6 off http://www.napowrimo.net/ asked
for a poem about a animal and this animal
is my partner, Katy's cat who I had a war
with on Friday about brushing).