the nine mercenaries
he looked like the kind of cat
who always hung out
and nobody really noticed
sinking into a piece of furniture
worn out by cheetos and
baked over the years
by ultraviolet rays
on occasion
and for months on end
he would vanish
monthly rent payments
arriving like clockwork inside
legal envelopes postmarked from
cairo or algiers or timbuktu
eventually returning he
managed to escape headlines
and ticker tape parades
opting to stealthily appear
in his favorite spot
licking his wounds and
counting down the days
october two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I love reading this as if it’s literally about a cat. 🙂
I feel the same way….
Lovely
thank you very much
I have heard of garden gnomes doing this…
Now that I would like to see! Perhaps Leprechauns as well?