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Saw My Cat

Saw my cat
eating something
on the gravel
outside the door
to my office.
She catches gophers,
an admirable trait
in a cat,
not all cats
catch
gophers—she
can hear them
from inside
the house, will
suddenly jump
off the bed
at night, go out
through her cat door
down her ladder
into the yard
and return
in five minutes
with a gopher.
This one
was only a pile
of innards—
a purple spleen, some intestines,
and three
unborn pups
their eyes closed,
still alive
and moving:
she’d saved them
for last.
Ye who sing the praises
of Dionysus:
remember this!

24 March

April 24th 2009  |  Comments feed  | 

Tags: cats, Dionysus, poetry
 | 

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