a poem about a cat

Ellis Hutch

There are ways and means
whys and wherefores
there are earnest thinking thoughts

theoretical
philosophical

I start
delete
start

I think about the science of extinction
and meditate on us
as killers
and feral species 

I try writing about the damages of Cartesianism
the destruction wrought by thinking
that thinking needs language

 the weird hierarchies that humans invent

It’s all so fucking boring
it’s beside the point
it’s trying to be smart and convincing 

back to the beginning

this is unscientific

-           -           -           -           - 

In the beginning you startled me
escaping through the bathroom window
in the middle of the night
from your refuge in the linen cupboard 

half asleep
peeing in the dark
I yelled in fright 

You reappeared
a skeleton on the back step
taking a chance
driven by starvation 

you lost your fear
released terrified mice into the bedroom
in the middle of the night
allowed me to prise a stunned silvereye from your jaws
got in fights
peed in the bath

You crawled into bed with me in the early hours
shoved your head in my armpit and
pressed yourself against my side

you came in wet from the rain
and demanded a vigorous rub with a soft towel
you went straight back outside 

I don’t know

where you came from
or what brought you to our door
in particular 

-           -           -           -           -

What do I know?

I know the feeling of your weight on my legs
I know the slow, deliberate motion
of you pushing a full glass of water off the bedside table
I know the soft warmth of your body pressed into mine

For a few years
we spent the early mornings
breathing each other’s air 

then I left
moved away
visited once in a while 

I got used to your absence

Then they told me you were sick
I had a chance to see you
on a sunny weekend day

I watched you in the garden
and inside, crouched over the heater vent
black velvet ball, turning inward

I pressed my face in your fur
searched your gold eyes for a sign of something
noticed your slowness and quietness 

-           -           -           -           -

this 

is unscientific 

this is you and me
bodies
seeking contact
feeling each other’s weight and warmth 

and the feeling of feeling your absence
and crying while I write
even though I barely saw you in recent years 

this is knowing

I lost a friend