A cat may look at a king
Does this disturb you?
Your face is an unreadable scrawl to me
There’s no rosetta stone at hand
To decipher the glyphs of your intent


Hey, I’ve heard tale of your attic
From those more familiar than i
It’s said
there’s a storehouse of artifacts there
That you have lost track of your dolls
How once you own a thing
You will keep it inside its box
And never let it out


Well, my original packaging
peeled away long ago
And I’m no collector’s edition
You can stuff and mount me all you like
And I will still reform


Baby, I’m an old hand at this sort of game
The shelf has long been my home
I know my place, do you know yours?
Keep pushing those buttons, then
And see where it gets you


What labels you offer are meaningless
You speak of hollowness like
It’s something to be feared
I’ve forever been a ka statue
I do not function without being filled
And I contain your energy now


Go on, entomb yourself, Tut
No matter how high you stack that pyramid
You cannot travel without your ka
Tell me, who is collected now:
The pharaoh, or the cat?