Arts: I’m Tired of Your Cat (a poem)

Drinking whisky from a woman’s glass
With her maiden name scrawled along the side
A badge of honor, a shame to possess it
I can’t hold my drinks let alone my tongue
And I tell you I’m tired of your cat
It makes my eyes itch and I hate the hair on my clothes
And you storm around the apartment cursing me
Spitting venom from the tip of your tongue
I move like a shadow to the kitchen and pour another drink
And you’re screaming that I can’t find a job
I drop two ice cubes in the glass
And you’re screaming that I’m too condescending
I pour the glass half full with whisky
And you’re screaming that I’ll never write my name let alone a novel
And I top the glass off with soda water
I walk back into the living room where you’re still stomping
Stomping to the bathroom to gather your toothbrush and shampoo
Stomping to the bedroom to fill your suitcase
And you’re screaming that you’re going to your sister’s
And I take a drink from the glass and it goes down smooth
And you’re screaming that I’d better be gone when you get back
And I put the glass down and light a cigarette
And you are still stomping around the apartment
Stomping to the kitchen to grab your keys
Stomping to the door to slam it shut
Slam us shut
And I take another drink from the glass
And I barely hear you screaming in the hallway
And I take a drag from my smoke
And I don’t hear you screaming anymore
So I sit alone in the dark with the city lights illuminating the room
Drinking and smoking peacefully, absorbing the night
And your cat jumps on my lap and burrows down to sleep
And my eyes begin to itch

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