Of Muse

[A]
I left my cat in San Francisco
with John, and his sister, Miss Doe;
so when I went to write me care
I had to stop 'cos Sid weren't there.

Poor Sid, I sold 'im for a gun
to shoot some breakfast for me mum,
but then the cornflakes wouldn't fight
so I left their nest a frightful sight.

He said to me, once, when he flew
that cats with wings can't make glue
which is why, in darkened night,
their wings de-feline in mid-flight.

[B]
This absence was acknowledgement
for what I told the management:
"this stuff, you know, can never pass;
'tis sunlight shining from me arse".

[C]
In that chilly San Francisco
I left my cat with Alice, Miss Doe.
Ten years later he snuck back
and now, again, some words, I hack.

Something awful this way comes
inspired by evolution's sums,
biting love and biting cheer -
you bet I'm drinking too much beer.