“Petites Dents, Petites Pattes” by Thom Ward

Etcetera's MistressThe language has always been smarter than us.
It slinks, pounces on invisible mice. Waits
by the bowl just recently filled, looks up
and stares through you—its tail curling
into a question mark. Each moment
another chance to nap, for it to assume
what it rests upon. Or so you think. And
who can think beyond the language?
Who doesn’t yearn to say—cat—without
the cat itself? Go ahead, keep collecting
those pieces of yarn, rubber-squeak toys,
keep changing that litter box. No doubt,
your god is a stranger. How quickly
cat disappears when the stranger arrives.

Thom Ward,
Etcetera’s Mistress
Accents Publishing

255 thoughts on ““Petites Dents, Petites Pattes” by Thom Ward

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *