Matted, greasy fur
on sickly, skeletal frames
Pupils red like rats from Hell
Disease bubbling from their innards
then dripping out their eye sockets
and you think,
“I hope that thing doesn’t come near my cats”,
the ones you feed gourmet wet food,
and buy fancy cat toys.
On Christmas morning you and your mousers sit around the tree,
and sip Sambuca
while the cats of OB shiver outside.
They look through the mail slot and wonder,
“Where’s my toy?
Where’s my sweater?”
The Cats of Ocean Beach originally appeared in Decker’s compilation of poetry, Barzilla and Other Psalms, available at Puna Press http://punapress.com/