Packing The Kittens*
The box labeled dishes&glasses– breakable! is too small. The one that says Shar’s shit Stae out! is too big. * Kittens get scared if they can’t sense the walls of their bodies. This one, with its punch-card holes and shredded corners, is just right. * On their way in, the kittens rough and tumble, splay their claws. Every purr and rawr makes happy music until I close the top, scrawl return to sender. Then, silence. * I don’t know where I’m sending them or how. UPS said no. Helpful Brown wasn’t helpful at all. The government considers them a hazardous substance, right up there with tear gas and nail polish. And I’m tired of standing in line anyway. My arms hurt. * “Go home,” I say. “I can’t take you anymore. Go home.” * They clamber and climb, claw over claw. The perfect box tips, spills kittens every which way. Skid, tail, teeth, meow, purr, swipe and lap. Claws catch in my pant leg, the edge of my sock, the under layer of my skin. * We are caught, tangled and wrapped. The kittens dance with me, each step I take, they take too. At the counter, the woman licks her paw and stamps my hand. “Next,” she says.
There are so many places we could go. *
About This Poem: Not liking this poem at all, but I promised myself I would stick to the prompt. I started with an image of a kitten in a box and followed it to the end. I don’t have any idea what any of it means.
About Poem-A-Day: For the month of April (National Poetry Month), I’ve signed on to write a poem-a-day (eeks!). To make it slightly easier on myself, my rules are that I have to write each poem in fifteen minutes or less, and that I have to post it here on the blog as soon as I’m done. No edits. Just rough. Raw. Right out of the gate. (Of course, if you’re playing along, I hope you’ll post a link to your poem in the comments here — mainly because I’m selfish and I want to read them!)