It was Dante’s cat that caused it;

ignored by Alighieri, busy with an epic,

he trod on vellum, got chucked off,

then grinning like a witless fool,

played a game with candle flames,

balloons, and unattended tails.

 

Kaboom!

The smell of burning fur

and fear shat across the room!

The door to Hell now battered down

by four demented paws of doom.

 

Meoww! Whoosh!

The hapless soul of moggy

sucked five circles down;

swallowed by eternal fire,

hellward bound, the mouser yowled.  

 

Pathetic ball of singe and crisp

limped to Styx, all smouldery.

Contemplating kitty woes

he clawed aboard the ferry.

 

Charon chucked him off the boat.

Virgil turned his back.

Dante wants a dog next,

he’s sick of “fucking cats”.

 

To all you idiotic mogs                                              

and frisky little shittens,

never play with candle flames

and let this be a lesson:

 

self-indulgent naughty pussies

never get to Heaven,

they’re not allowed their suppers

and no one ever wants to pet ‘em.