Herbert And The Cats

something light again....

Old Herbert, hater of the feline species

nearly got one at twenty feet with a schnapps bottle ;

these hairy rats piss on my cauliflowers

he winded through yellow molars.

That was a Tuesday, a wet one.

Been in the garage again, these smellies ;

I heard them coughing between the tyres.

The doors have more scratches than Gran`s glasses.

The postman, an outsider to the human race,

must have let them in ; send ´em back to Egypt.

That was Thursday ; better weather.

The cats must have killed him.

As brave streeters we all lined up at the funeral ;

in his honour we all slightly lifted a leg, without scorn.

Might have been a Friday ; but I`m not sure now.

Reviews

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Light tis not. Sombre yes. And I do also have this illness as i too HATE cats. They use my garden as a toilet and not their own! My air gun would have a task had i more courage. Lovely writing as always. I do so love your style Leslie.