Buso
No miracles are needed when kittens
Abound. Their stripes and spots and blotches say
Enough. Mine has all of these and mittens
Of white as pure as Baby Jesu’s soul away
On ox’s straw, as white as light from eyes
Of ass and angels looking lost in awe.
Her cheetah spots and tiger stripes are prize-
Like wonderments and then each curving claw
Is proof that marvels are two a penny.
When Allah made them he was in the throes
Of saber-like creation; so many
Pale scimitars . . . and then her light pink nose!—
A hue Jehovah had in mind before
The Big Bang opened out its lion roar.