There’s a pussy-cat hiding in my pants drawer!
I’m not kidding! He’s climbed in there again.
There are baskets sliding in my wardrobe
And for reasons, yet unknown, he’s drawn to them.
I don’t do cats but daughter has this kitten,
It’s everywhere I go, it follows me.
I wake and it’s staring at my person
Like we have some strange affinity – a chemistry.
I don’t! I swear. I’ve never had familiar, if witch I am
I’d pick a tiger striped or panther black,
They’d never fit inside my baskets or my wardrobe
Nor cling on there so stubbornly at the back.
Don’t say it! The joke’s already made here,
By daughter, husband, while at cat I rant,
‘There’s nothing worse than finding, on exploring,
A strange pussy hiding in your silken pants.’
My family are disgusting!