“This is Just to Say”
I have eaten
on the counter
you were probably
They weren’t moist or savory
like the seafood variety of Friskies
but I was bored.
“Sleeping in Your Bed on a Snowy Morning”
Whose bed this is I think I know,
But she is in the kitchen though;
She will not see me lying here,
Spreading hair and feces everywhere,
The linen’s lovely, crisp and clean,
To not dive in would be obscene,
And hours to go before she sleeps,
And hours to go before she sleeps.
“Hope is the Thing with Feathers”
“Hope” is the thing with feathers –
That perches in the cage –
And sings the taunting songs –
That never stop –
Yet, tonight, tonight –
When you sleep –
I will eat it.
“Death Be Not Proud”
Death be not proud, though some have called it so.
For my owner who reasoned
a life of care, cuddles, and
catnip on Christmas
should bind thee to me after death,
thou dost not know a cat’s nature.
I did try to respect thine corpse lying there,
but my memory is short and my hunger vast.
There’s a bluebird in my mouth that
wants to get out
but I’m too tough for him.
I say, stay in there, stay.
I will masticate you until you’re
There’s a bluebird in my stomach that
wants to get out,
churning, roiling, forcing bile angrily upwards
until it explodes,
a smear of discontent
across your brand new rug.
“If You Forget Me”
I want you to know
you forget to feed me,
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.
“Do Not Go Gentle into that Good Night”
Do not go gentle into that good night,
For I will burn and rave at close of day;
Meow and shriek against the dying of the light.
Though wise men know that dark is right,
That sleep repairs cells that sang sun into flight.
Wise cats know nocturnal slumber’s for the weak
So, we rage, rage against the dying light.
No, you shall not go gentle into night.
“Still I Rise"
Does my sassiness upset you?
You seem so beset with gloom.
It’s obvious that I don’t care
You’re even in the room.
Did you want someone to adore you?
With bowed head and moony eyes?
You should have bought a dog then,
Why are you so surprised?
Sure, my haughtiness offends you,
You take it awful hard,
But at least I’m not out sniffing butts and
Crapping in your yard.
When I knock things off your table,
You may cut me with your eyes,
But I don’t care about you,
So still, like air, I’ll rise.