Slice of Life 23 of 31

This poem is about the cat I cared for before Mumphrey. I was also taking a T.S. Eliot grad class at SFSU and was reading Allen Ginsberg a lot when I wrote it.

In conversation with my cat I asked about
Eliot and if she’d met him, but she bit me
and told me she was just a cat who had
drank from the waters of Lethe.
To which 
I replied, “Yes, I gulped them too,
but I
 don’t think I drank that much.”

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