I am not a pussycat, and I am not a quitter:
You can stroke me round the clock, and I will never purr.
You can see me wag my tail, and never change my litter –
But I will not identify what lies beneath this fur.
I am not a puppy-dog and I refuse to yap:
You can pat me endlessly, but never need to feed me.
You can sit me anywhere – the floor, or on your lap –
But I refuse to answer if you ask if you can breed me.
I’m fluffy and adorable, but I possess no head:
Brainless is as brainless does, my motto, since you ask.
Although my tail is active, from the bottom up I’m dead –
I cannot shake your paw: that is too difficult a task.
Around me there are other wags, incapable of thought,
A gang of plump insouciants, collectively ‘a farce’.
So no, I’m not a creature, though I may be cheaply bought –
Beneath my jolly tail I am a very stupid arse.