"> Last night waiting for you I had a brief but intense relationship with a cat
we indulged all the games of lovers
casual flirtation, playing hard to get, making concessions and taking chances,
and it struck me that cats would make excellent lovers
because their bodies tell me everything that I need to know about giving pleasure.
You wrote a poem across my body while I slept
and in the morning I awoke with your words
seeping into my skin
snaking around my thighs
their red lips on my hips
curling about my breasts
and tailing off with a goodbye.
and as I scrubbed myself clean I realised
that though its not just ink that I've left on your sheets
I never penetrated your skin with anything deeper than my nails
and for all the words you covered my body with
I only ever wanted saliva, semen, teeth that drew blood,
and fingers that made me follow their calling.
I did not want to be written but played,
with the instinct of a cat
rubbing its head against a fence post,
because it feels good.
2 comments:
i heard a theory
about cats,
from a reliable source.
that their heads contain
scent glands
behind their ears.
so, when they rub
you leg
or anything else, for tha matter
such a fencepost
it is less for pleasure
and more for posession.
then,
who am i to second guess
the motives of cat.
'writ as i typed. cat at my feet'
Billy The Cat
He scatches and he bites
He's got more flight than fight
More Yang than Yin
But his claws and teeth are sharp
And used to Great Effect in situations numerous,
Both humourous and serious
Sometimes his claws and teeth
Are used on some of you.
Billy The Cat
He scratches and he bites
But what he also likes
In summer fields, or when the days are short and cold, in front of a fire,
Is to be stretched out like a wire
And be scatched and bitten
By some of you.
This poem is specifically designed to be performed at an EF! gathering or similar event where its contents will be true.
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