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Buggy in America

The wife and I lay in bed
on a cold winter night,
when I heard a noise.

Looking down, I saw a large, flat bug,
skittering out across the cold,
cracked green linoleum floor
on six very short steel like legs.
It was very large and strange,
ten inches across and flat
with a hard shiny back.

The bug got to the middle of the floor
where it began to spin rapidly,
like an old phonograph record.
Then it made a dart for the old wooden step
leading upstairs to where we kept the children.
It climbed halfway up the old white paneled door
and slipped through the crack
right under the green porcelain knob.

Being curious, I ran across the floor,
opened the door to find
the loveliest black cat there,
staring at me with amber eyes,
she was beautiful.

I picked her up, closed the door,
 took her to our bed.
My wife thought it was the prettiest cat
she had ever seen.
It purred, and because it was gentle and warm,
 we kept it between us and fell fast asleep.

About midnight, I heard another noise,
the cat was gone
and there was the same big black bug,
skittering across the floor,
spinning again on the linoleum.
Again, the bug went to the door
and slipped through.

This time there was no cat
on the other side of the door,
and when I climbed the stairs,
the children were gone.

I went back to bed,
told my wife
the disappointing news.
This time there was no
big black beautiful cat
to keep us warm.

Next morning we heard
a timid knock on the door,
there were the kids,
bare foot in the snow,
still in their nighttime undies.

Beside them stood
the beautiful big black cat,
which my wife and I agreed
was the most adorable thing
we had ever seen.

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