the cat who didn't land on his feet

with all the wonderful things i've found in the alleys of ukranian village thses past weeks, today I saw the worst: the bent cat. I came across it as I trudged against the wind to get to school late. It could've been beautiful. it was sleek and sinewy almost like a siamese and all beige the color of a blanket in a cheap hotel except for its tail which was coal black.
Its spine was broken in a way that it's hind legs kinda folded over its back in this obscene anglr but you couldn't notice that at first. The only thing you could see was the coy look on its big green eyes like it knew there was a trout in your boot and was ready to pounce.
Maybe that's how they'll find me. At the business end of a box of graham crackers or a can of unagi with my capped tooth firmly and forever planted in the bottom of some deviant smirk. Some brightly labeled variety of sugarwater at my side. Hopefully it won't just be my hands atrophied around another joystick or dumbell. I'd rather it be a pen but more likely it's my own cock, my ass firmly planted into the clean side of the cushion of some seat dragged in out of the alley where it might break the fall of some wayward and hungry beige-and-black cat.