Cat amongst the pigeons

A cat, with a Rorschach face
Sidles by, asking if I have any doubts
As to human superiority
Inventory is all around
Like god, neatly arrayed
Pewed and tagged in Sunday’s best and legion
Though, the shelves
For those essential 
Civilising products
Are nevertheless
Half empty, quiet as apocalyptic streets
Except for those two, fighting
As the last roll of TP unspools and stops
Still at my feet
Foregoing any ill-considered doubt
I pick it up
Ensconce it surreptitiously 
How did you get in, I ask
The cat says
Shhhhh, with that familiar grin
I’m not really here