To a Young Tom Cat on the Eve of His Gelding

Sweet and fearless cat, brazen climber of tables–
  the appointment has been booked,
  the vet will cut your cables.
Your gander, as it were, is cooked.

For a few, brief shining days
  thou lusty feelings knew.
Spring arrived, you prepared to make hay,
  your concupiscence grew.

Now, Rocco, you never love will know,
  nor seed shall sow, nor breed
  an heir to bear your ebony mane (white ruff below).
Forget the procreator’s creed–
An urge is thus interred, as if within an urn.
You shall hardly miss what you barely learned.

Available in Kindle format on as part of the collection “Cats Say the Darndest Things.”

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