by Thomas W. Case
My autocrat of a
cat
sat on the pedestal
and watched me type.
His eyes, slits, like
slivers of emeralds.
He took a paw,
licked it, and
washed his despot face.
He owned me.
I did whatever he
wanted.
He sauntered off,
then turned and
watched , as I
took liberty with
truth, for the
sake of
imagination and creation.
I dreamed last
night that he could
talk.
He just said two words.
"Beautiful lies."
From:
Thomas W. Case
Copyright ©:
2023
- Share this Poem:
ABOUT THE POET ~
Thomas Wesley Case is an American poet and author. He was born in California and now writes and lives in Iowa. He has hundreds of poems published in anthologies around the world. He also has two volumes of poetry published and a third volume entitled, Seedy Town Blues Collected Poems, due out soon.
Last updated January 27, 2024