What can your magic camera see?
Will it show you Carl in space?
Or Liza's epic battle?
Emily's magic camera says your eyes were full of stars.
Take a photo of Sawyer's chickens
As they run beneath Annabel's swing.
Or capture a moment at a dance not usually photographed (Sarah's nose kiss.)
(and here's Sav's)
(and when you're done with that, tell me what poem below says about me and my cats)
(this poem too)
The Cats
They walk through my house on litter box feet--
on my pillow
on the kitchen counter
across the dining room table.
They leave their hair everywhere.
Sometimes even in my food.
They stand behind corners of walls and
swipe at legs and feet as they go by.
They hiss at the dog.
She only wants to play.
They nuzzle but then bite visitors' heads and
think package ribbons and knitting yarn
are their toys alone.
They yowl in the house at night
chasing pom poms and drowning them
in the water bowl.
They throw up.
They always throw up.
And yowl until you feed them again.
They poop in the house.
In a box.
And then sometimes,
I'll come into a room to find Phoebe
wiggling on the carpet with her tummy to the sky.
She purrs as she wiggles,
looking innocent and sweet
inviting me to rub her belly.
And I do.
But sometimes it's a trap.
Leaving my hand with little tiny scratches by menacing cat claws.
I'm not a fan of cats so I absolutely loved this poem!
ReplyDeleteI like this because I have a strong dislike for cats, so I completely understand your frustration. I like the "litterbox feet" part a lot and also the stanza about poop. Cats hate me. I hate cats.
ReplyDeleteI think you're lying to yourself about hating your cats. You're trying too hard, Doc Z
ReplyDeleteso the thing about your cats. like wasps sense fear, cats sense hate and throw it right back. Love thy kitty. and it may or may not love you back. depending on how much you feed it.
ReplyDelete