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Cancer the Cat







Cancer the Cat






Sneaking up on me.

Drinking from my cup.

Eating off my plate.

Sleeping in my bed.

My intimate enemy.



Slaps the bowl when I

Offer him milk.

Pisses on my flowers.

Shreds my leather couch.

Hisses at my grandchildren.



Hides for months, years.

Reappears in another room,

Stalking, hunting, relentless.

Purrs but never smiles.

Always lands on his feet.






Frank C. Modica











Frank C Modica is a retired teacher who taught children with special needs for over 34 years.  Frank’s writing is animated by interests in history, geography, and sociology. He lives in a university community, where he enjoys the various cultural opportunities available to him.  His short story “Homemade” was selected as an Honorable Mention in the Midway Journal 2017 -1000 Below Flash Prose and Poetry contest. His work has appeared in Slab, Heyday, Cacti Fur, Black Heart Magazine, The Tishman Review, Crab Fat Literary Magazine, and FewerThan500.










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3 Comments

  1. Cancer the Cat, the title intrigued me and upon reading the piece I asked myself if that was the cat's name or nature. For a number of us who have cats, like myself, the love you develop for them is almost cancerous. It grows fast and spreads. Yet, given their behavior sometimes that same affection can be a bit tedious. Much like our affections for one another too, they can even be hard to bare. These things are what I picked up from this piece. Enjoyed reading it. Hope to see more of your work.

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  2. Hi Renee:
    Thank you for your comments about my poem, "Cancer the Cat".

    ReplyDelete
  3. Hello, Frank.

    You are welcome. As I said, enjoyable read.

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