(17 September 1883 – 4 March 1963 / New Jersey)

Complete Destruction

It was an icy day.
We buried the cat,
then took her box
and set fire to it
in the back yard.
Those fleas that escaped
earth and fire
died by the cold.

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Comments (5)

Okay..... well, we certainly weren't mourning the loss of the kitty kitty. Twas sensitive of him to bury the cat on an icy day- -the ground was it frozen deep, making it hard to pierce it with a shovel? I guess you could call it an act of compassion that he made sure the cat wasn't outlived by those fleas he couldn't be bothered to flea shampoo off her or flea collar off her. At least the cat had a box...
Lovely little poem with a deep meaning.
Fairs Fur Dorrit takes her turn on the leather One hundred and twelve, the auld bleather She has pockled about The back-door in and out I think she’s depressed by the weather
Interesting pick.
he be betain and burning his cat