I Will Inform You (poem)

I Will Inform You

Cyclopean supercilious tree

It is not the ecstasy of claws embedded

In your bark that will tempt me

To my ruin (thinks Mr. Boots)

It is the getting down

I, having not until this day

(for the cat must follow fortune)

Passed where unaccountably a change

In my daily architecture

Brings to my nose the windborne scent of dung

And to my ears a flood of birdsong

An open door

The disrespectful chatter of a squirrel

Squirrel, I will inform you, Mr. Boots is well-insulated

He does not wish to feel cold

But he is not fat

Flick your tail, and I will bide my time

Start from cover and I will chase you

Should the tree collaborate against me

I have friends with ladders

I Will Inform You

Ask Yourself Expert (poem)

Dog of Sorrows

(2016, Stephanie Foster)