Poem #5



At first I read this poem as simply Sweet Little Black Kitty’s version of Howl remade as a multi-media performance piece—part rant, part rage, part stage (over)acting, part Buddhist prayer. But I’m rethinking my interpretation of the subtext of her opening statement (“My communication is very important (it’s all capitalized) and I don’t need vowels or digits.”) and am now considering the possibility that this poem is written in two different feline languages or dialects, or, perhaps, it is a single, shorter poem presented in its original and first foreign reprint edition simultaneously.

If, however, my initial interpretation is correct, I believe the second portion of the poem is a lament for the best minds of her generation that have gone homeless or disappeared into the death machine of the animal shelter system.


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