O fanged thing! Thou of the flats
Of fooding places, spills and splats,
You lurketh there between the bowls,
Your bowels are full of meowls for fowls,
And other things best left unsaid.
You like your cows both warm and dead
Or at the least a bit more ed-
Ible than paltry offerings to growls
Of tummies that inhabit cats.
You are a victim of possession foul:
That's how you've pled for being on the prowl!