They call me Sabado
for they carried me into their house on a Saturday.

A wee fur ball of kitten I was then
wobbly and wide eyed.

Not like now. Now I'm
dreamy and demure. Paw sure.

I'm not funny, unless you count
when my step brother lifts his lips at me:

He spits, "Hey Saturday.
You're sitting on my step."

And hoists his extra long gray tail,
tip flickering, hissing, "GO." I do.

I pour myself double time
through the one floorboard hole like backwards boiling lava—

Poof!
A magic bunny sucked back into its magic hat.

Which I suppose is worth a chuckle
unless you're me, shaky in the basement,

licking myself together
feeling like a foreigner.