Ode to the Litterbox

Oh, Litter box
Your voice is heard through my nose
Dread surrounds your perimeter to
most all without fur and whiskers

You beckon them, but not I,
at least not until the pine pellets
changed our relationship,
and gravelly dust hit the road
You are softer and sweeter these days,
but there is no less dig, dig, dig

Do you feel ripped off that I feed the
kits such good food that they only leave
little brown cigar stubs in you?
Do you wish you were at a grocery store-fed
kitty's house so your mission in life were
more fulfilled?

Smooth plastic, small house of furry privacy
We meet every night, on each other we can count
You cost too much, but you are not evil
No, in fact, you are a chore I choose to do in love
for the little feet that pounce and play 'round here all day.


Annie Quicksilver
5-10-2010