Cats Upon Cats


Cats upon cats have invaded the town.
One's dressed up like a frog, another a clown.

From Ms. Smith's to the highway and down Mulberry Street,
they're tiptoeing softly on their nimble cat feet.

There's a Siamese in a tux, a Persian sporting tights.
I gasped when I saw them, a frightening sight!

Finally, I asked one, a burly Burmese,
"Why have you come here? Would you mind telling me please?"

He looked at me wryly, his tail twitched as he spoke.
He said, "Listen closely, I'll tell you, my bloke."

"We've had enough of the lip from you humans you see,
that we're conniving and sneaky and love climbing up trees."

"We are taking this town in a formidable fashion
and we're making a point, because such is our passion."

"And what point might that be?" I asked the Burmese.
"It's for us cats to know and youse humans to see!"

Then he slowly slid off in a sort of chassé,
and cats upon cats followed his way.

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