Cat’s In The Kettle
Did you ever think when you eat Chinese,
It aint pork or chicken but a fat Siamese?
Yet the food tastes great, so you don’t complain.
But that’s not chicken in your chicken chow mein.
Seems to me I ordered sweet-and-sour pork
But Garfields on my fork.
Hes purrin here on my fork.
Theres a cat in the kettle at the Peking Moon,
The place that I eat every day at noon.
They can feed you cat and youll never know,
Once they wrap it up in dough, boy.
They fry it real crisp in dough.
Chou Lin asked if I wanted more
As he was dialin up his buddy at the old pet store.
I said “Not today. I lost my appetite.
Theres two cats in my belly and they want to fight.”
I was suckin on a Rolaid and a Tums or two,
When I swear I heard it mew, boy.
And that is when I knew,
Theres a cat in the kettle at the Peking Moon
I think I gotta stop eatin there at noon.
They say that its beef or fish or pork
But its purrin there on my fork.
Theres a hair-ball on my fork.
I just spit my coffee out. That’s hysterical. I must share this poem.