A Cat Contemplates His Absent Mistress
Where are you always going but the vet?
About the world there’s one thing that I know:
you get into the car, that’s where you go.
But nobody, without a fight, would let
themselves be taken there — you volunteer
to go? It makes no sense! So where else could
it be? Suppose I’m on the loose: where would
I think to go if I could commandeer
the means to move me? I recall a mouse
I chased once led me to another house —
that’s it! You’ve found there someone else who feeds you!
What, then, makes you come back here? I see
one reason — there, there’s no one else who needs you
like that guy who lives here. (No, not me.)
Matthew King used to teach philosophy at York University in Toronto, Canada; he now lives in what Al Purdy called “the country north of Belleville”, where he tries to grow things, counts birds, takes pictures of flowers with bugs on them, and walks a rope bridge between the neighbouring mountaintops of philosophy and poetry. His photos and links to his published poems can be found at birdsandbeesandblooms.com.
Pulsebeat Poetry Journal 