Her Name has always Been Her Claim
my cat is mercurial and sound
she prances when she thinks I am not around
but if I notice her she does this slippery slink
her name is on the edge of my dendrites, just on the brink
Prancer seems too lively, Slinker seems unfair
The cat is now batting at an imaginary dog in the air
Why not call her imagination? The dog suggests.
I give him the roll eye, his ideas are never the best
Call me Crissy, Jin-Jin, Jakey, Petunia or John
The cat transports into my brain, and gives me a yawn.
You know her name, my soul work states in dream.
It has always suited her, because she is the Queen.
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