Sunday, August 28, 2011

Ask Mittens The Cat Your Metaphysical Questions

There are things which are known,
Clear,
Predictable and provable--
A carton of milk left out on the counter
In the sun from the streaky window
For a week
While its owner pores over ancient religious texts
Or surfs porn
In an access of unnatural zeal,
Will roil with unspeakable rot
And spoilage to turn one's skin gray.

Such is the rational world.

Enter "Mittens" the psychic cat.
Mittens knows
In the morning
That Fat Henry from downstairs will have a coronary
In front of Wheel Of Fortune
That evening,
But she refuses to say.

The things Mittens sees
And the things Mittens is privy to,
Make God look like a piker
Viewing smoke in a darkened room
Through the keyhole.

Then there is the benighted general run of humanity.

They know only what is spoon fed to them
By pomaded newsmen,
The terrors instilled in them
By hovering, neurotic parents,
And the odd fact picked up
From graphic novels
Found accordioned at the filthy kiosk where the number ten bus pauses
To consume them whole.

Turn to Mittens the psychic cat.

Is your life a blue diamond
In a rose bloom
In a beautiful woman's hand?
Is your heart
A hawk through the smashed window
Of the two car garage of time?
Mittens knows,
But Mittens will never say.

Tough shit, Princess.

Truth is a black ink riddle
Written on a crow's wing
By a blind man.
You could break your fingers and your neck
Trying to read that braille
On the fly.
Leave it to Mittens
Whose eyes are designed for the lunacy of night.


_____


for dverse poetics

20 comments:

Brian Miller said...

truth is a black ink riddle written on a crows wing by a blind man...that is one hot line...so does mittens have a 1-900 we can call?

hedgewitch said...

Lots of striking lines in this one--the one brian quotes a knock-out punch, of course, but I also like the number 10 bus, and "Is your heart/A hawk through the smashed window/Of the two car garage of time?" There is just enough leaven of levity, if you will, to make the truth saltier,crunchier and black as pumpernickel. Mittens is a scary kitteh, and this is a seriously good poem.

(Oh, and that picture at the top proves my long held belief that animals have no clue about mortality--I've met too many klutzy cats to believe that whole 'perfect grace and balance" image they have going.)

Daryl said...


Truth is a black ink riddle
Written on a crow's wing
By a blind man.
... such a clear picture

Kerry O'Connor said...

I knew from the title that this would be another original masterpiece from your fascinating mind.

And let me thank you for being a continual source of inspiration. The day will come when these words find their rightful place in the poetic library.

Heaven said...

I believe in the psychic cat's eyes to see beyond the rational world. Because we are too fixated on today's news or terrors, we can't see beyond our noses. Truth is inscrutable like your image of the riddle on a crow's wing by a blind man. Nobody really knows, don't they? Great post ~

And that picture is so cool ~

Sioux said...

This is a marvelous poem--as usual.

I have a burning question for Mittens the psychic Cat: Will Hurricane Irene pick up Snooki and take her far, far away? Please say "yes," Mittens.

Lisa Ricard Claro said...

Mittens is smart to keep her prophetic knowledge to herself. No one would believe her anyway until it was too late to change the outcome. I wouldn't mind tossing a few questions her way, though. Does she know anything about the stock market?

ayala said...

Shay...I love " truth is a black ink riddle..." you are always creative and unique.... :)

Claudia said...

i think i just paint my fingernails black...sit on the crow's wings and leave the milk in the sun on the counter...maybe Mittens comes to drink and gives me an interview....will be back and tell you in case she turns up...

TALON said...

Oh those wise kittens...

I loved this line, "Truth is a black ink riddle" - so perfect, Shay.

brenda w said...

Excellent poem. That last stanza is dynamite. Dynamite. Love this one.

lori said...

Well, I thoroughly enjoyed everything about this. Mittens sounds pretty awesome. And, cool job on the nails, very nice :)

chromapoesy.com said...

Dear Miss Mittens: If only I had a witty question to ask you but I'm worn out from a visit by my mother.

Seriously loved it. We used to have a kitten named Kudra after the Tom Robbins character from Jitterbug Perfume. One day she completely vanished, we like to think, precocious kitten that she was, that she lived up to her namesake, discovered the secret to immortality and got on with it.

libithina said...

'Truth is a black ink riddle
Written on a crow's wing
By a blind man.
You could break your fingers and your neck
Trying to read that braille
Loved this ~ sure is one talented kitty that mittens ~ what a fab image too ~ Lib

siggiofmaine said...

Loved your poem...great word choices...
along with the last paragraph that seems to be an overall winner,
my favorite is

"The things Mittens sees
And the things Mittens is privy to,
Make God look like a piker
Viewing smoke in a darkened room
Through the keyhole."

and in the paragraph,
my favorite phrase:
"make God look like a piker"...
piker a word I love,
and is so seldom used and used
with eloquent purpose.

Enjoyed this immensely,

☮ ♥ Siggi in Downeast Maine

cinderkeys said...

Several people have named my favorite lines already, so let add that "Truth is a black ink riddle /
Written on a crow's wing / By a blind man" has a great rhythm to it. Just fun to say.

haikulovesongs said...

first of all, your labels/tags are more creative than most of my poems {she says, green with envy!}

i have constant vertigo and am a cat-person {though i love dogs!} so that photo totally freaked me out. your poem is brilliant, smart, clever, amazing, stunning and full of yummy phrases! my favorite line:

"Tough shit, Princess."

i bet Mitten would look bitchin' in black nail polish! ♥ d

Mama Zen said...

This is just damn cool!

Natasha said...

Princess...Mittens OWN you! This is fantastic (as per the norm) I believe the term used above was "punch in the gut" I'd call it a punch but I think it's place of landing was a little lower ;) My first cat was named Mittens...she ate her young...hmmm, she probably seen where the world was headed...I second Mama Zen! This IS just damn cool!

Evelyn said...

I am giggling and spooked at the same time...