Poem, No. 3: And That Was That
In a new poem, our EIC writes about zir cat named Jake.
Welcome to Poetry, a series highlighting my own work as an amateur poet. All poems and other pieces were originally published on my Patreon page.
I was feeling catty one day. So, I wrote a poem about my cat named Jake.
And That Was That
Her eyes clawed out of the blackness
as silky and perfect as a panther’s fur.
Her purr, too, appeared from the big nothing that tangled its web around us both.
Blasts of cold and bodies in orbit, fated from the start
for an astonishing existence of playtime and wonder.
But she was in primal motion right then, pouncing along the slick jet carpet, decorated with loose hair of past lives and bloodless skirmishes, and her tail swayed in metronomic
beats.
One click, two click,
tongue lick, eye flick.
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Hunger eats me alive, and I feed on the carcass.
‘For what it’s worth…’ reads the now crumpled note, lying dormant and afraid. The words pinch me as silver needles into
addict veins.
And I nearly choke on my own vomit.
‘Thank you,’ rings my ears.
The clerk has kind eyes. They unnerve me. She checks my name off a list, and I shuffle my grimy hands nervously from my pockets.
I take the brown paper parcel packed with canned goods and discount meats and cheeses. I nod.
I take a quick peek inside. The stench of my rotten corpse flicks my nostrils.
‘That’ll do the trick.’
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