Cat Got Your Soul?

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Cat Got Your Soul?

Not a purr, pussy, fur, friend, or
feline cat. Not

a stretch-and-rub mate for
your morning wakes.

But a blue, whiskered, under-
water cat, big

as a mud-bellied sow, inscrutable
as a palsied whale.

And what he means to you and me
as yet remains

unsaid. But say we must be-
cause he swims

the karst caves of your deep
life, the fissures

and sinkholes, in aquifers naught
run dry. You can’t

stare him in the eye, but he
you. And does.

And when your last shallow breath
pools in passages

run tight, he snatches your soul
like cut-bait,

and whisks the stink away in night.
Atropos? He laughs

at that scissor-myth shit, because
his white-chasmed

mouth is big as the whole damn world,
and his forked tail

a road much traveled. Wonder ye
then at his feral hunt?

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