Socks is a Good Cat
All the neighbours’ cats
drink gin
It’s true
They say it’s neat gin
They drink it sloe
Call it gourmet
Think themselves fancy
They’re still pie-eyed
By sunrise
All the neighbours’ cats
smoke fags
That’s them, puffing away
In the undergrowth
Tabbing their heads off
Stinking their paws up
Coughing like mad
How do they manage to
inhale?
Or strike matches?
But they do
All the neighbours’ cats
commit murder
Without blinking
All the neighbours’ cats get
sexy
It’s revolting!
Everyone’s wriggling and
giggling
Spraggling and waggling
Bums in the air!
Everyone’s shagging and
gagging like mad
Boys and boys and girls and
girls
Especially the ambiguously
gendered!
They’re the worst of the
lot!
They’re all mad for it round
here
Really, I’m quite shocked
Most of the time
But not me
I am a good cat
I am the best cat in the
world
You know me
Butter wouldn’t melt
On my cold wet nose
Bernard Socks Has a Quiet Day
My usual palaver is on hold
All the scritching
All the scratching
And the bombing about
Don’t worry about me
I’ll be curled up in a ball somewhere
I’m only dreaming
About exploring other lands
Conquering worlds and
Coming up with the wildest schemes
Every idea I have
Would amaze you
Really
But today’s plans are quiet ones
I’m having a quiet day
Maybe back about five?
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