it’s a cat conspiracy

 .

there’s one in the shop window

who makes eyes at my family

 .

they toss the idea of him into conversations

and I hiss like a hot wok dad’s-joke

to move on

 .

the manipulation of cute

how could you deprive them

 .

a conspiracy of retracted calls can we pleeeease

has stretched in the kitchen for two years now

maybe it’s time

 .

I move us all back to that country I love 

where cats are delicious

 .

.

.

Go on, send me angry mail. I’ll eat it all.

note: nothing was harmed in the making of this poem