An orange cat is draped awkwardly across my lap
purring as he cuts off the circulation of blood
to my legs, and my feet begin to tingle, but
I don’t move because now he is asleep and
I don’t want to bother him after he has had,
such a difficult day.
This one took three minutes to write, which is by far the fastest of any so far. It’s sort of a different style than I’ve done up to now, with a more sentence-like feeling. The stanzas are sort of arbitrary, which feels like cheating, but it’s a style that I’ve seen before so it must be ok. Writing a poem about a cat also feels like cheating.
Most Unruly Line:
‘to my legs, and my feet begin to tingle, but’