A roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour

It is a sleepy Sunday with the cat in the window, the clock ticking and the rain.

Me smacking my lips, tonguing my teeth as a lion might a sinew.

House cats are no different than their counterparts in the wild, with their boxing glove paws.

And why do they preen and sleep so much?

Because they have nothing to worry about but themselves, as any powerful nation might.

(You see, the amount of privilege you have is measured by how much you waste.)

I will go back to my book and my recliner now, my streaming opera, this kernel in my gum.

Pull the Starbucks cups out of the trash and recycle them, toss an apple to the deer out back.

Categories: poetry, writing


8 replies

  1. Interesting parenthetical!
    Re cats wild & domestic – I kinda think they sleep so much cause they have mastered the don’t-worry mindset … off to dreaming up adventures that don’t endanger reality (as they know it) … I envy my cats’ ongoing naps!!

    Liked by 1 person

    • I know! That was a soup of correlations there, I’ve got work to do on it still. Thanks Jazz! And yes to the naps, maybe that’s part of the reason they’re top of the pack. Well rested.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. How do cats stay so lithe and fit? Not with chin-ups, that’s for sure.

    NB putting reuse and recycle day in my diary now.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. According to a BBC radio doco that I happened upon today, a Russian poet called Daniil Kharms demanded that when a poem is thrown against a window it should break. I, who know less about poetry than an owl and perhaps cat, reckon you give it a great crack.

    Liked by 1 person

    • The poem breaks when it hits the window, or the window? Sorry, had to be cheeky there David I feel we know each other well enough now I can be the jerk I really am with you…:)…I like this! Thanks for thinking of me and sharing, it’s only fun to put this stuff out in the world when cool people like you make a sound when it hits…maybe you’re the “crack “ as it were. Be well.


  4. Thanks Bill. Your indulgence, like your writing, is appreciated. In my silly way, I left out the word ‘it’ thinking the ambiguity was more poetic. Sadly the omission could have been accidental.
    But I like that your poems etc provoke me to think and occasionally get out on the edge beyond the window.

    Liked by 1 person

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