A work of art,
the cat.

A thing of beauty,
but solitary.

Sometimes you may swear
that love is there,
but I suspect the worst.

At best his universe
is selfish, hedonistic,
opportunistic.

The cat is balance,
elegance and dance.

His lonely art is
pure catharsis,
never failing to entrance.

The very best of all this feline
art is found in Spain,
where crowds of tourists go
to see the cats curvet and twirl
in an elaborate flamenco,
or a flaming fandango.

Each is in his private world,
alone in Catalonia.