Money (an ode to my cat)

Money

is my cat, golden brown,
white, and mahogany 

she walks through brown-carpeted halls

her kingdom, her terrain,

fat and looking for week-old crumbs

on the un-swept kitchen floor

too lazy to crawl downstairs
and consume her cat food 

Money slurps up the water

from the empty bathtub

she prowls around the house

chasing her shadow on walls

and sees me watching her,

she meows, meows and meows

until I walk over and give her

her everyday fifteen minutes of fame

Money is a beautiful, annoying beast
she tries to distract me when 

I watch T.V. and read and study

jumping up on my lap

her brown eyes beg me please

please pet me

when my door is cracked open 

while I sleep, Money knows

she must have some kind of

kevin’s-door-is-cracked-open-

must-go-wake-him-up radar

I let her jump into my arms

and I pet her before I let my dreams

seize me from my wake

she licks my face, and I kick her out

her clawless paws pound on the door

Money hurts her leg and

she prefers not to walk much

we move her food and water bowl

and litter box upstairs

her leg heals, and she goes about 

her business consuming crumbs
her fur clumpy, meowing at her domain
a paper box in a paper world

Money loses a lot of weight

our other cat, the skinny white one

becomes the fat one

Money stops meowing

and her decaying flesh

starts rotting inside of my heart

her eyes grow very tired and sad

Money, my cat, can barely walk

her back legs become paralyzed

my thoughts become paralyzed

hope becomes paralyzed as she

refuses to eat, my brother and I 

take turns holding her in our arms

and we march like a funeral parade

out of the door Friday, November 18th

Money looks so beautiful

cuddled into my arms

rain falling from my eyes

her rotting flesh, dirty fur,

painful eyes are so grotesque

in the most beautiful kind-of way

her brown eyes beg me please

please pet me

but I kiss her head and

don’t even hold her

I run for the empty house

not looking back, too afraid

everything will turn to salt

and dust gathers on the walls

that used to display shadows

of life, they crumble dead onto me

I leave my door cracked slightly open

but nothing wakes me