Molly Explains It All For You

by Mollycat Jones

My brother steals the best spot, by the door.
He chitters at a feeder full of birds.
I don’t know if I love or hate him more;

I lick his head to demonstrate I’m sure
that I’m his boss, whatever has occured,
although he’s got the best spot by the door.

He spits at me. He’s spat at me before.
He’s dumb, but bigger than me by a third.
I don’t know if I love or hate him more.

Oh, look—he’s raised a paw, which I’ll ignore.
He growls, so I’ll pretend I haven’t heard.
He always takes the best spot by the door.

Perhaps I’ll wash his head again; what were
you saying? I’m provoking him? Absurd.
I don’t know if I love or hate him more.

Oh Hell, I’ll swat him. He’s so immature;
he’s frozen with that paw up, hasn’t stirred.
My brother steals the best spot by the door.
I love him, but sometimes I hate him more.

Mollycat Jones lives with her human companions, Christine and Ken Potter, and her brother, Desmond, in an old house that sometimes has mice. She almost caught a gold finch once, but her brother got it instead. And Ken took it away from him, anyway. It flew off.  A strict formalist, Molly believes that Christine's book, Zero Degrees At First Light, would be OK if it had more metrical poetry in it. This is her first publication.