Cat In a Hot Carpeted Attic

Look at those flowers out there.

They're just going to town,

and all their budding keeps distracting me 

from my work as a budding dramatist.

But here I am:

Pişi,

and as you can see, I've been putting a dent

into this Playwright's Workbook.

The primary subject of my study is

your's truly --

Squeak.

Now every good playwright knows

you need some conflict,

so I make it a point, 

daily,

to chase her up the stairs --

That's her version of the story.

This is Squeak here, and I'm here to tell you:

she doesn't chase me --

I go upstairs on my own, 

to avoid her version of conflict.

Uh oh,

here she comes:

She wants conflict?

Here, I'll give it to her --

The Zen of Squeakness.

I don't move.

I dare her to try to create conflict!

O.K. Fine.

So I'll do a historical play.

Something about cats in the Ottoman Empire. . . . .