On the third Sunday of April in the year twenty-twenty-three, I was given the sixteenth daily option to write poetic. My assignment was to compose a poem prompted by negation (I also like contradiction or paradox). That is a poem describing something in terms of what it is not, or what it is not like—as a fish is not a bird and vice-versa, although some fish can fly and some birds swim well. Generally, in English, things (and people) are defined by what they are rather than what they are not.

Cats are not gods
but if they could talk
they’d argue that point.

Cats cannot fly
but my oh my
how did mine get up so high?

Cats do not like to be petted or scratched
unless they ask you to do so.
They’ll be sure you know when you are done.

Cats cannot sing
but here is the thing
do not tell them that meow isn’t a tune.

Cats don’t care
unless they are there
when you want to write,
make dinner, sleep,
or go away for a while.

Look both ways when considering what a thing is or is not.
Mind the gaps that can make even the simple too complex.