WJ:My Cat Has Fleas

"When the flush of a new-born sun fell first on Eden's green and gold,
Our father Adam sat under the Tree and scratched with a stick in the mould;
And the first rude sketch that the world had seen was joy to his mighty heart,
Till the Devil whispered behind the leaves, "It's pretty, but is it Art?"

from Rudyard Kipling's The Conundrum of the Workshops

Poetry: Poems of Shame

This poem was an attempt to write something so dreadful that the National Library of Poetry would not select it as a semi-finalist. Unfortunately, it was selected and the author thereby given the opportunity to purchase an anthology which would include this work.

My Cat Has Fleas

My cat is chewing on her butt;
It makes me think she is a nut.

I try to drown the fleas in spray;
They jump and shout and just yell "Hey!"

I try to drown the fleas in powder;
they eat it like it's fine clam chowder.

I try to drown the fleas in gas;
that really burned my kitty's ass.

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