(in honour of) Matthew the Cat
early hours
fridaynightyawningintosaturdaymorning
walking home hushed and happy and stoned
down the middle of the naked streets
skirting the grunts and odours of a thousand suburban dreams
I turn at last into Maidcroft Road
the home straight an orange tarmac river
under the orange street lamp light
from the shade of the shadows
I hear you call my name
with such welcome
and conspiratorial intimacy
that my body smiles
(from tip to tail)
you emerge
and I crouch
to meet your insistent nuzzling skull
as you share your catty tales
the loves the fights the songs the victories the gossip the visions the news
(no mention of the wounds)
and I find myself purring
with lunar delight
that we are such good
and mischievous
neighbours
I bid you good night
but you are not finished with me yet and pounce upon my shoulder
thus knighted by your impressive feline weight
I arise
feel us steadying as a pair
and with you whispering in my ear
ancient feline spells
I feel a sudden rush of wizardry swell my muscles and my veins
down the middle of suburbia I stride
twelve feet tall and open wide with pride
alchemical shadows pirouetting all around
two days later
on your deathbedsofa
bone infected beyond return
body haggard and rapidly closing down
I salute you and your nine good lives
say goodbye for one last time
and exit quietly
pulling the memory of your wounded nocturnal blessing around me
as I would a thick cloak against the cold
early hours
fridaynightyawningintosaturdaymorning
walking home hushed and happy and stoned
down the middle of the naked streets
skirting the grunts and odours of a thousand suburban dreams
I turn at last into Maidcroft Road
the home straight an orange tarmac river
under the orange street lamp light
from the shade of the shadows
I hear you call my name
with such welcome
and conspiratorial intimacy
that my body smiles
(from tip to tail)
you emerge
and I crouch
to meet your insistent nuzzling skull
as you share your catty tales
the loves the fights the songs the victories the gossip the visions the news
(no mention of the wounds)
and I find myself purring
with lunar delight
that we are such good
and mischievous
neighbours
I bid you good night
but you are not finished with me yet and pounce upon my shoulder
thus knighted by your impressive feline weight
I arise
feel us steadying as a pair
and with you whispering in my ear
ancient feline spells
I feel a sudden rush of wizardry swell my muscles and my veins
down the middle of suburbia I stride
twelve feet tall and open wide with pride
alchemical shadows pirouetting all around
two days later
on your deathbedsofa
bone infected beyond return
body haggard and rapidly closing down
I salute you and your nine good lives
say goodbye for one last time
and exit quietly
pulling the memory of your wounded nocturnal blessing around me
as I would a thick cloak against the cold