Food Vincit Omnia
Today as Prospero came bounding in
When he was called for breakfast, his black tail
Was whanged out wide. He clearly thought a sin
Had been committed, that some other male
Had dared to enter our cat’s little patch
Of territory, or perhaps a fox
Trespassed behind our house, a claw to scratch
Him, teeth to tear his fur away. “A Pox
On You!” his shocked out tail proclaimed—but he
Was overcome by jellied salmon flakes
On offer. There is nothing like the plea
Of yummies. Favorite food puts on the brakes
Of anger, fear, and hatred. From the fight
He zoomed to eat, a hungry coward’s flight.