April 9: It's going to be buried

It's Going To End Up Buried Anyway

I want that cat,
the April cat named Napo,
to steal
from the litter box
in the sky, and sprinkle
shovel some my way.

I will paw it gently,
pushing the bits
this way and that.

I will try to keep
it from being stinky,
or from plopping over
the edge onto the newspaper beneath,
making an even bigger mess.



Deodorant for poems, please.
Vicky