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Cats

they lounged
on deserted mainstreet
at dusk

some crossed
eyeing one another
squaring off
like mythical gunfighters

the spectators
rolled on their backs
presented their fat stomaches
stretched
yawned

we were alien tourists
not meant to be there
tripping the twilight zone
in awe

we could have been flys to them
we could have been gnats
invisible gnats
this was thier town
a town gone to the cats

we rode on
the old Ford
gargling muffled thunder
out

back on the tarmac
I thought of the time
he caught them in his back yard
stuck them in a burlap bag
drove to the country
executed them

and strangely
I have not
a pang of pity

no more
than if they were squirrels
rats
flys or gnats




June 2008 

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Comments

  • The descriptives are very good. There is a paucity of feeling (unless it was all tied up in that burlap bag.)
    It seemed to me that you have left the reader with unfinished business.