Catalogue
| Cats sleep fat and walk thin. Cats, when they sleep, slump; When they walk, pull in-- And where the plump's been, there's skin. Cats walk thin. |
Cats wait in a lump. Jump in a streak. Cats, when they jump, are sleek As a grape slipping its skin--They have technique. Oh, cats don't creak. They sneak. Cats sleep fat. They spread comfort beneath them Like a good mat, As if they picked the place And then sat. You walk around one As if he were the City Hall after that. |
| If male, A cat is apt to sing upon a major scale: This concert is for everybody, this Is wholesale. For a baton, he wields a tail. (He is also found, When happy, to resound With an enclosed and private sound.) A cat condenses. He pulls in his tail to go under bridges, And himself to go under fences. Cats fit in any size box or kit; And if a large pumpkin grew under one, He could arch over it. |
| When everyone else is just ready to go out, The cat is just ready to come in. He's not where he's been. Cats sleep fat and walk thin. |
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