MM.11:125ERIN C. HASTINGS
"Off With Her Head!"
The first time I saw him, I knew.
His hair flowed like the Ganges River,
I became entangled in it and his
nails on my back were oh, so inviting.
He would purr in my ear and burrow
in my neck with his cold nose,
whispering riddles into my ear
until I fell asleep with my book,
not a page read.
I didn't fall into the rabbit hole,
I went looking for him. He
kept disappearing when I spoke
of litter boxes and cat beds.
I needed to know the answer
to his puzzle, I would not be
ignored. I found him
perched on a tree, engaged in
conversation with Five and Seven,
he was always a swinger. He
saw me coming and started
that majestic grin
but my knees didn't become weak
nor did my mind start to drift.
I saw red and he knew
I figured him out, just a
retired magician with only
one trick. But I do still welcome the
pat, pat, pat of his paws on my breasts.
Poem, © 2000, ERIN C. HASTINGS
(all rights reserved; To copy or translate this poem, please contact the poet)
Site design, © 2000, John Horvath Jr., PoetryRepairShop. and www.poetryrepairs.com
(All Rights Reserved).
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