Why don’t you ever want to play? I’m tired of this piece of string. /You sleep as much as I do now, and you don’t eat much of anything. /I don’t know who you’re talking to-I made a search through every room, /but all I found was dust that moved in shadows of the afternoon. /And listen, about those bitter songs you sing? /They’re not helping anything. /They won’t make you strong. /So, we should open up the house. Invite the tabby two doors down. /You could ask your sister, if she doesn’t bring her Basset Hound. /Ask the things you shouldn’t miss: tape-hiss and the Modern Man, /The Cold War and Card Catalogues, to come and join us if they can, /for girly drinks and parlor games. We’ll pass around the easy lie /of absolutely no regrets, and later maybe you could try /to let your losses dangle off /the sharp edge of a century, /and talk about the weather, or /how the weather used to be. /And I’ll cater with all the birds that I can kill. /Let their tiny feathers fill disappointment. /Lie down; lick the sorrow from your skin. /Scratch the terror and begin /to believe you’re strong. /All you ever want to do is drink and watch TV, /and frankly that thing doesn’t really interest me. /I swear I’m going to bite you hard and taste your tinny blood /if you don’t stop the self-defeating lies you’ve been repeating since the day you brought me home. /I know you’re strong.
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-Plea From A Cat Named Virtute by The Weakerthans
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