"Religiosity" meowed the cat
rather languidly as cats
usually do
"is for the birds",
just then a cock crowed
with cock-lust after the plump chickens
in the hen house,
but the door was locked by the evil wolf
wearing his usual sheep's clothing,
casing the barnyard
ready to snatch anything that
clucked long enough to suit his fancy,
and the swans swimming in their pond,
stretched their necks to see what was
going on....
it was a three or four little brown mice, having a field day,
squeaking in by the kitchen door,
Bill, the cat, having pretended to be asleep,
pounced and just like that, a little mouse
tail dangled from his mouth, swished,
and then was out of sight.

See. the moral to this story is every thing is
a religion of one, as long as it is hungry enough to
survive.

Ambushed by the wind, the moon rises above it all
and dogs go about their dog-day afternoons. never
thinking about what the cat is up to.

End of.