The Mystery Cats

There are mysteries to me

Cats — large, smell-less, unpurring and wary Could be sneaking around Stevie Wonder’s house, making things disappear

We have our own cats That thing we do, we always do, we shouldn’t do

Beyond a blind spot — there’s a deafness of the soul

The maids have conversations: Do we tell Mister Wonder that a cat licked his toothbrush? No, let’s just rinse it or get a new one

Hey! Your soul is deaf! You can’t hear me even say that, but I wouldn’t say it anyway

Because my soul is deaf too