gravity, always

My cat thinks she’s Jeff Hardy
and I believe it too.
When she leaps, she flies—
the ground, doing it’s part,
meets her far too soon.
I suggest she jumps at midnight,
when the clocks are split in two,
when the day before,
the night ahead,
and flying cats can all be true.

Jake is a cancer researcher from Cork. This is his second Daily Drunk adventure, and he has work featured/forthcoming in perhappened and Versification. Follow his twitter @JakeMcAwful — or don’t, that’s totally okay too.

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