Junkyard cat
escaping every human
climbing over Plymouths and Dodges,
Hiding in rusty jalopies
that used to carry Grandpas
to potential grandma’s for courting.
Junkyard cat
slinking in and out
Hoping an old woman
will take pity and leave food
She rarely does
Thinking that might
Curb your mousing
MISSING TIG’R
Tig’r nothing fancy
Essence of simplicity
Was a big fat cat
Vacancy behind the eyes
Poundable a big bass drum
Now we all miss him
Such a gentle animal
The gentle pounding
Gone to happy mousing grounds
The angels will adore him
Apartment 12B;
Has been empty almost a year,
Last tenants two kids, their mom, and two cats,
They lived their almost a year and a half,
There is a faint smell of cigarettes still wafting around,
There is a battered couch and a thin rickety chair,
A wall still needs painted where some kid scribbled with a blue crayon,
Some rollerblade tracks lead to the door,
A rose now dried lays on the counter,
The apartment once loved now has a slightly gloomy atmosphere,
A single alphabet block lays in a corner forgotten,
It's a hundred dollars a week,
But he might cut you a deal,
Did I mention it has a certain spooky appeal,
Cobwebs in the corners,
A black cat near the door,
Staying and mousing,
Till its owners come home once more.
Purring in perfect perfection.
Curled up in contended contentment
he lies - half asleep, half awake -
ears attuned to tin opening...
coiled, curled, like a spring ... prepared.
Once playful and kittenish
he has aged into feline maturity.
Moving with stealth and pouncing,
surprising his prey with pliable precision,
then proudly presenting the prone prize to me.
This cat has character -
a constant companion since 'kitten-hood'.
Turning from tabby tearaway to
majestic malkin, marvellous mouser...
ears twitching as he sleeps ....
rousing to rustles - reacting with ready reaction ...
poised for action, or soporific on sofa...
preening at intervals, then asleep again -
dreaming of midnight prowling,
tom cat howling, rat and mousing.
He is my therapy: stroking his purring form;
conversing, cat-calling, cuddling, cajoling
him to come home .... he is a comfort -
a faithful feline friend, now middle-aged -
like me - and both curled up in contented contentment.
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