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Sonnet #2
The second sonnet is about the cat of my childhood, rufus.
He was mean.
Upon our porch and in the sleeping sun,
a seeming lounger sits instead couchant
and seeing my approach readies his lunge:
arched back and puffing tail looks me askant.
Out from his teeth a low leonine hiss
"this is my land and I will fight with you."
His wordless message does not go amiss
I stand stock still for what else can I do?
Slow he approaches, padding, one two four
and raised up as he is to near my height
Again behold the tiger-kings of yore:
Who hunted ancient man through endless night!
So salient he raises up his knives
and rains his scratches down towards my eyes.
He was mean.
Upon our porch and in the sleeping sun,
a seeming lounger sits instead couchant
and seeing my approach readies his lunge:
arched back and puffing tail looks me askant.
Out from his teeth a low leonine hiss
"this is my land and I will fight with you."
His wordless message does not go amiss
I stand stock still for what else can I do?
Slow he approaches, padding, one two four
and raised up as he is to near my height
Again behold the tiger-kings of yore:
Who hunted ancient man through endless night!
So salient he raises up his knives
and rains his scratches down towards my eyes.
no subject
(Anonymous) 2007-04-17 03:45 am (UTC)(link)no subject
Mud
Fuzzy Socks
Nor'Easters
Robot Uprisings
Bob Dylan
no subject
(Anonymous) 2007-04-17 05:35 pm (UTC)(link)no subject
no subject
Graham