They Stalk Us

They stalk us.
My cat.
His cat.
Wanting what we are eating.
Whenever we are eating.

Mine is yellow and fat.
His is black and skinny.
Black is sick and hungry all the time and never gets enough to eat.
The food does him little good.
Yellow always gets enough, and always wants more.

We eat in silence.
He looks at the bookshelf.
I look at the food.
And him.

He is skinny,
I am fat.
He eats a ton.
I linger over my smaller portion, and like when I was a child
am left alone to finish, because I am slow.

They are like submarines.
In the water of the floor.
Surfacing at couch level.

Yellow runs right up and shoves his nose in your bowl
To be pushed away.
Black watches.
Waits at a distance.
If food is placed before him he will eat. Maybe.
Yet at cat feeding times he yowls and cries
While yellow sits silent and watches.
Big eyes.
He tried to imitate black one time.
A whisper of a meow.

We eat.
The four of us.
Statements of will
and want
stalking about.