is that they don’t like ‘em.

The problem

is that their walk

has never been linear

and the slinking slither

of their bodies

along and around

and over a world,

which is also

not linear,

does not lend itself

to leashes,

nor does their way

of thinking,

which, quite plainly, holds that

You, human, should be leashed.

You, human, with your straight

sidewalks and straight roadways,

your righteous phrases, like “on

the straight and narrow,” “straight

shooter,” and even, “damn straight,”

you are a right and good candidate

for the leash. The cat is demure

and unrepentant,

given to fits

and outbursts

and also to indolence

though often high up, draped

along the upholstered back

of a chair, intentionally

and shamelessly

higher than

—of course—

any human

who might sit there.