Tuesday, April 21, 2009
13 Ways of Skinning a Cat
Apropos of nothing:
Thirteen Ways of Skinning a Cat
(apologies to Mr. Stevens)
I
Among twenty deserted farmhouses,
The only moving thing
Was the whetstone of a redneck.
II
I was of three minds,
Like a boy
With a cat and a Swiss Army Knife.
III
The cat’s carcass twisting in the autumn wind,
Delicate sinews suspended from a meathook.
IV
A cat and a farmer
Are one.
A cat and a farmer and a machete
Are one.
V
I do not know which I prefer,
The sharp tang of heavy spices
Or the mellow coat of cream,
Cat Vindaloo
Or Cat Korma.
VI
Kittens filled the farmer’s house
With incessant mewling.
The shadow of their mother
Crossed them, to and fro.
The mood
Festooned the stale air
With the inevitable conclusion.
VII
O fat men of Georgia,
Why do you imagine obedient cats?
Do you not feel how the cat
Digs its claws into your skin
As you raise it to the butcher’s block?
VIII
I know feline contours
And troublesome sharp bones;
But I know, too,
That the cat will have its measure of skin
Before it yields.
IX
When the cat slinks into shadow,
Its fur is no softer,
But it will do for mittens.
X
At the sight of cats
Moving in great slinking herds,
Even the Texas ranch hands
Would flee in terror.
XI
He rode over Wyoming
In a checkered cab.
Once, a fear prowled through him,
In that he mistook
The local militia
For ASPCA agents.
XII
I’ve opened a can of tuna.
The cat will be by, shortly.
XIII
It was morning all night.
The cat was glowering
And it was going to glower.
It doesn’t know
About my revolver.
Thirteen Ways of Skinning a Cat
(apologies to Mr. Stevens)
I
Among twenty deserted farmhouses,
The only moving thing
Was the whetstone of a redneck.
II
I was of three minds,
Like a boy
With a cat and a Swiss Army Knife.
III
The cat’s carcass twisting in the autumn wind,
Delicate sinews suspended from a meathook.
IV
A cat and a farmer
Are one.
A cat and a farmer and a machete
Are one.
V
I do not know which I prefer,
The sharp tang of heavy spices
Or the mellow coat of cream,
Cat Vindaloo
Or Cat Korma.
VI
Kittens filled the farmer’s house
With incessant mewling.
The shadow of their mother
Crossed them, to and fro.
The mood
Festooned the stale air
With the inevitable conclusion.
VII
O fat men of Georgia,
Why do you imagine obedient cats?
Do you not feel how the cat
Digs its claws into your skin
As you raise it to the butcher’s block?
VIII
I know feline contours
And troublesome sharp bones;
But I know, too,
That the cat will have its measure of skin
Before it yields.
IX
When the cat slinks into shadow,
Its fur is no softer,
But it will do for mittens.
X
At the sight of cats
Moving in great slinking herds,
Even the Texas ranch hands
Would flee in terror.
XI
He rode over Wyoming
In a checkered cab.
Once, a fear prowled through him,
In that he mistook
The local militia
For ASPCA agents.
XII
I’ve opened a can of tuna.
The cat will be by, shortly.
XIII
It was morning all night.
The cat was glowering
And it was going to glower.
It doesn’t know
About my revolver.
Monday, April 13, 2009
Vids: You suck
I see Whitney's been busy on Youtube: these from last night's show, which was a blast to play and to witness.
Still no Clash/MIA mesh on vid...dang it.
Still no Clash/MIA mesh on vid...dang it.
