This roommate of mine,

I'm not sure he really likes me

I might as well not be there,

until he insists.

 

In the morning,

he looks up blinking,

only stirs when the 

can is opened. 

When he deigns

to know his name

he looks up

then looks away in disdain.

 

He wants my lap,

so purry and friendly.

An hour later...

"Who the hell are you talking to?"

 

Scratch me, rub me,

there, there, there!

Enough already!

His claws draw blood. 

He might as well be a statue,

most of the day,

but at night he rips

scrabbling across the floor.

Let me out!

Let me in!

Let me out!

Let me in!

 

"Hey, Buddy!

I wrote a poem for you!"

he sleeps on,

with a twitch of the tail.

This roommate of mine,

he takes and takes,

and in return I get only

Love.