Trapped in, locked down for so many days,
Time races by in a terrifying haze.
I stay put at home
Where I try not to moan,
But my waist’s expanding out sideways.
How, oh how, do I stop touching my face?
My nose, my neck, all over the place?
This can’t be right
Am I losing the fight?
My paws and my kisser need space.
Right now I have a compulsion to bake:
Scones, teacakes, Victoria sponge cake.
My oven’s losing power.
I’m running out of flour.
And those macarons were an epic mistake.