Thursday, December 17, 2015


fat cat in a little sink

There a lot of things that evoke homicidal urges, albeit fewer now that I don't work in food service, which is frankly TOO much interaction with the underbelly of humanity to maintain equanimity off the clock. One thing that really sets off the boil is the @!$%^$ cat screeching at 2am, or 4am, or 1am, or any am except the am at which we are meant to be done sleeping. You see, she takes our middle of the night bathroom breaks as a cue to begin Operation Breakfast. It used to be the signal for her "midnight" snack, which we managed to eradicate about two months ago. What does the operation entail? She goes into the bathroom and howls at the top of her little lungs. For extra acoustic fervor, she will get into the tub where it echoes off the porcelain. Crafty little shit. Sometimes a harshly toned "HEY" is enough to settle the issue with short-lived results. But I finally figured out a solution that makes her go silent after about three minutes, and you will find it in the last line of today's first haiku.

howling falsetto
rings in my ears until I
shut the bathroom door


her belly sways as
she scurries to the window
to binge and purge plants

you see this food?  give it to me.

top picture: the kitchen sink of our apartment in Atlanta (pre-dog), August 2008, digital 
bottom picture: same apartment, demanding food, May 2008, digital 

No comments: