I’ll climb up a tree
and scratch Katapatafataya

If I go out now,
my paws
will get wet

A car is coming but
the cat knows
It’s not a snake

In London-town cats
can sleep
In the butcher’s doorway.

And the quiet cat
sitting by the post
Perceives the moon

The moon had
a cat’s mustache
For a second


Jack Kerouac