Noisy Cat

You have the hysterical look of mutes that roar through narrow straws. I see in your yellow eyes – a Jules Verne winking moon. Soon that ribbed pink cave will release another flock of demented coots hacked from the craw of an ancient macaw. Soon the whip of your vocal squawks will pluck my eyes from their trembling stalks. Maine Coon, part Persian, part whiskery herring, grimalkin mouser, I love you not when you sing. Verne goes to the movies, a flickering French theater of painted malarkey, where mice threaten to Can-Can. Buck Rodgers shoots rays of hyperbolic sound from the open nozzle of your mouth.

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Eric Ashford

Date: 7/21/2019 1:22:00 PM

Authors Note: This poem riffs in parts to the historical thread of Early French Cinema and a Jules Verne Novel. Some of the images reflect the groundbreaking film of Georges Méliès, whose 1902 short A Trip to the Moon had among many other silly things clips of dancing mice. The Buck Rogers thing, seemed appropriate as an early Si Fi image. Of course, the poem is about a particularly vocal cat, and then one thing led to another.