The Garfield (National Poetry Month Day 23)

Once upon a day of illness, as I yearned to break the stillness,
Seeking simple ways to fill this great and sickly noontime’s snore
Through the channels I went picking til’ the clicker’s ceaseless clicking
Found the sight forever sticking, corroding at my very core.

In the papers I had seen him like an orange and flaming demon
And his owner, once a freeman, now the servile yoke he bore;
But that sight had not prepared me for this show that boldly dared me,
And at once the theme ensnared me into staying and wanting more.

In my frantic feverish dreaming, there I saw him, smiling, scheming,
Seeming all the more a demon for the feline grin he wore –
All I know is he hates Mondays, and he takes lasagna all ways;
He sets my sedate soul to a blaze that heats my fury to a roar.

On the screen his mocking dancing set my bilious hate advancing
When that spastic flailing prancing spilled my gut upon the floor,
Still enraptured I proceeded to see the owner’s pleas unheeded
As lasagna quickly speeded, speeded to the maw that I abhor!

Oh, were I well and were I able I would leap the coffee table
and find the fiend who dares enable this filth to play on Channel Four,
And upon him I would smite with all my hate and all my spite
For I would be the noble knight to slay this demon forevermore!

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