Tuesday Poem - 'That Cat'

That Cat

Leggy catwalk gait,

chocolate wedge face,

eyes as round as smarties -

the new cat is Naomi.

Forget that she was found in a box

on the Calder Highway,

she’s checked into our hotel now;

orders room service

practises photo opportunities with the dog

tells me in her bossiest voice

to get rid of those Blundstones

and buy some proper shoes -

Viv Westwoods  -

so she can feel at home in my wardrobe.

She sits on the ironing board

criticises my technique.

That cat, we say, kicking her out of cupboards,

off benches, another broken vase. That cat,

adding her cryptic notes to my emails,

scratching my favourite jumper into her shape.

Like living with a view of the harbour

or your own Picasso,

that cat.

Catherine Bateson.  

I wrote this poem just after a burmese cat came into my life. I can no longer have cats in my life - we live in the Melbourne Hills and the birdlife around our house is too lovely to threaten it with an agile hunter! (And Java was given away a long time ago, to a friend who adored her.) I do miss having a cat, however.

Check out the Tuesday Poem hub to read 'Crayfish' by Fleur Adcock, this week featured by guest editor, Helen Rickerby. It's a treat to read a hitherto unpublished Adcock - like Helen, I've long admired her work. From the hub, you can access other Tuesday poems - have a lyrical week!