Pitter Pat

2007

 

There was a loud POP! -- like an angry tailpipe.

She looked startled—kinda like it was just a backfire and after--

She looked sad.

 

I look down for a moment…I’m beginning the decent.

I look up-- and she’s vanished.

“God where’s a friend when you need one!”

 

Pitter pat pitter pat a cat whispers with his feet down the stairwell

I stare for a moment and then chuckle inside, “Thank God!”

 

“Man…I feel funny and I haven’t been drinking…”

So I focus far away to readjust my thoughts and I stare down the hallway.

 

Bending low from the saggy pregnant ceiling and the light sorta does that too.

So I’m just following its lead as I walk down the way.

“Feel free”, I say to the cat as I reach the end and decide for relief.

So he pees on the rug and so do I

And we stare out the broken window together.

 

What an experience to share with a friend.

“Man I feel funny!”

I stare down and admire our Modern art and decide it’s not fair to compare,

Especially when my puddle is much redder.

 

“Ya Know, I don’t think I’ve ever really loved cat!

Except, I had this pet when I was five or six—he looked a lot like you.

Got older though and I tend to go after a different kind of pussy!

Sometimes you ask for it, sometimes you take it;

 “I wish I would have stayed with you.”

 

My sense of compassion is heightened as I focus low.

There’s almost an air of guilt as I watch a few ants

Drown in my bloody piss.

A bit of glassy pain blots out the sun for a moment

And when I return, I think of just floating in the water.

 

In a raft with a slow leak,

An invitation…

To alleviate, to get ride of all the bad memories.

That’s why you cry you know.

“But what happens when you can’t stop crying cat?”

I think maybe the good memories go too.

 

© 2001-2010 Eric Ridge