To all those who would send others to die for their own obscenities
People, soulless
Drab dust
sycophants of power
Wreckers, warts
As you rot in
Your own machinations
Your Karma inescapable
the skewer glints
fuckwits
Your passing will
be duly noted
Eric, Requiem for a friend
My daughter China called me last night, crying, to tell me that her/our cat, Eric had been hit by a car. He was found on the street, cold and soft. I don't think, or choose to think he suffered or he would have tried to move. As I write, I am filled with a sadness so visceral it hurts to the bone. In my sadness I choose to smile.
Eric had a sister named Phoebe who has a mind slightly askew, you can find her daily, four furry paws clutching the screen midway between the floor and doorjamb meowing over who knows what.
When they were kittens they wreaked havoc, we had no plants left, they knocked chairs over, broke glasses. It was a nightly battle, I would wake up to the mellifluous sounds of plants, glasses, pictures being flung with abandon all over the place. What fun they had, I threatened them daily, inquiring as to whether they wanted to live to see their next meal. As you well know, none of this threatening availed any results, they blissfully continued to be a two cat demolition team. I would yell at them, yes, I lost my temper, and they would give me the look, you know, like the thousand yard stare you get when you tell the police officer, who has just pulled you over for speeding, the many reasons why you should not get a ticket, you were late for your appointment at the local barbershop, this was your bithday, your mothers birthday, your grandmothers birthday, you were pregnant, or rather your wife was-sorry officer I didn't mean to imply that I was about to do what no man has done before.
Eric turned into this wonderful, affectionate, feline bundle of joy and tranquillity. He would curl in your arms and sleep there all night, lie beside you as you read or sleep at your feet. He would grab little rocks, pebbles really, and fling them over his head go chase them and do it again.
A cat can't speak, reason, do math or hold a job but they definitley can communicate, especially if they want something. Eric liked cereal, icecream and catnip. You might say he was an icecreamaholic, especially after rolling in catnip.
He was beautiful when he ran, a black streak across the lawn, now he runs among the stars.
Cats, like us,have a spirit and Eric, I hold your spirit in my heart.
Burnie
Eric had a sister named Phoebe who has a mind slightly askew, you can find her daily, four furry paws clutching the screen midway between the floor and doorjamb meowing over who knows what.
When they were kittens they wreaked havoc, we had no plants left, they knocked chairs over, broke glasses. It was a nightly battle, I would wake up to the mellifluous sounds of plants, glasses, pictures being flung with abandon all over the place. What fun they had, I threatened them daily, inquiring as to whether they wanted to live to see their next meal. As you well know, none of this threatening availed any results, they blissfully continued to be a two cat demolition team. I would yell at them, yes, I lost my temper, and they would give me the look, you know, like the thousand yard stare you get when you tell the police officer, who has just pulled you over for speeding, the many reasons why you should not get a ticket, you were late for your appointment at the local barbershop, this was your bithday, your mothers birthday, your grandmothers birthday, you were pregnant, or rather your wife was-sorry officer I didn't mean to imply that I was about to do what no man has done before.
Eric turned into this wonderful, affectionate, feline bundle of joy and tranquillity. He would curl in your arms and sleep there all night, lie beside you as you read or sleep at your feet. He would grab little rocks, pebbles really, and fling them over his head go chase them and do it again.
A cat can't speak, reason, do math or hold a job but they definitley can communicate, especially if they want something. Eric liked cereal, icecream and catnip. You might say he was an icecreamaholic, especially after rolling in catnip.
He was beautiful when he ran, a black streak across the lawn, now he runs among the stars.
Cats, like us,have a spirit and Eric, I hold your spirit in my heart.
Burnie
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