Posts tagged ‘cats’

April 12, 2014

beautiful day

by jhon baker

TO NOBODY:

Sitting on the back porch for the second time this year and today the weather isn’t necessitating my normal hoodie. Coffee, cigarettes and my wife in and out cooking dinner while the boy practices his instruments. I didn’t ride today and should have but was too shaken by my car deciding to accelerate by itself and smashing into another vehicle. No injuries, no damage – just an unsafe car which has found its way, by tow truck, back to the dealer where they will find nothing wrong. My electrical lemon. It is time to rid myself of this car and go with something used with a bed or nothing at all and rely on my cycle to get me around.

I need a cathartic experience

something beyond the rapture

of the faithful.

Time passes without thought and I am still here – now sitting in the dark and typing by touch alone. At least there are my glasses and the wildlife which makes noise out of range of sight to let me know I am not alone.

The asshole neighbor yells at the feral cats like they can understand his anger at having cats as wild animals in addition to the plethora of other wildlife in the area. We need to protect our garbage cans from all sorts of creatures – possibly including the asshole neighbor.

Past my sons bedtime and it is my turn to read to him, cuddle close and enjoy it while he is still just young enough to want it. nearly too old for the closeness of his parents. This depresses me immensely as I think it does his mother. And there will be no more.

“five dogs went into the wildreness

only three came back

two died of guinea worm

and one died of you

Jack Kerouac”  – Hunter Thompson

We want our children to be sensitive to poetry but not become poets. My son is a musician and I’m not sure if that’s better. But his talent surpasses mine and anyone I know – I light another cigarette – so he can teach, perform, become famous or whatever he wants – he can be the most musically talented garbage man –

garbage men are the real poets anyway.

and my fucking car won’t work.

– Me

 

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July 30, 2011

the job I hate, abhor

by jhon baker

I love my cats, kittens – so much that I want to suffocate them in loving embrace – twist their necks inside my large arms and love them to their death – this is a bit macabre.

I love them, I refuse to feed them unless there is urgency behind it. K feeds them. I clean out the litter box. the shit box. the piss box. I hate it – the smell, the shovel, the plastic bags from the grocery store, litter on the floor. I would potty train them but that was not only hard enough with my son but I mostly don’t want to sit at peace and be looked at crossly for taking too long by a fucking cat.

I also brush them and clip the nails with K’s assistance – but this I never mind – bathing them is a job best left to the professionals as they become assholes when wet – much like some people I know.

 

I wrote this at four am – this is what comes out mid basement catastrophe. Forgot to post it and now I am going to bed.

 

July 15, 2011

Post 400

by jhon baker

and my readership is at an all time low. I blame my choice of switching formats and web addresses.

I thought I would make an interesting post it being 400 and all but I am not feeling interesting today. This means plainly that you ought to read the previous posts, the ones that led to this moment in time, marked by a simple heading and celebrated by taking four kittens to the vet.

 

I have eleven years worth of poetry that has only ever been read by the recipient and never republished or even copied. This is a detour from my modis operandi which dictates that I keep a copy of everything unless it is crap and deserving only of trash heaps and recycling.

I think that after my death there may be a collection out there titled “love letters” – but it may be that they are always kept private. as it is they are not mine, I wrote them but K owns them, they are hers and only she can dictate their offering. It is my job to create the market for that particular collection before I die – as if I kicked it right now there wouldn’t be enough interest – save the few hundred that have purchased my initial offering.

Do all writers obsessively keep copies of everything? Once this would have been labor intensive but is now quite easily done with the technology that has erupted around us. Even in the age before the widespread use of computers many writers used carbon sheets as I am sure I would have done if in that age – now I use a copier that came attached to the printer which came attached to a fax and all together has the ability to scan things.

but all this is off subject – or I haven’t a subject. The kittens cost me nearly 500 today and we are giving up one of the seven cats that inhabit our household this evening. Over the next few weeks we will be two kittens short of our current count and can then start considering colleges as there are too many bodies occupying this house at the given moment.

 

I am gripped by my body’s sense of humor.

June 12, 2011

what is that wetness??

by jhon baker

abrupt wake up in where I considered shooting my wife’s cat. Little bastard pissed on my blanket to awaken me – which is odd as I don’t feed them – ever. That is K’s responsibility – I clean out the litter box and pet them – one sleeps on me sometimes and is my buddy (he had never pissed on my blanket which ended up on my foot), good cat he is.
I’ll have to dig it up and finish it sometime today but I once wrote a little thing about cleaning up after the cats, a miserable job but I have the olfactory senses that allow me to be instantly reminded to get it done asap.
Having a great sense of smell is not a blessing though, I also have olfactory hallucinations where at any time I will smell something so powerfully it makes me light headed – sometimes it’s all roses and candy or chicken – other times it’s all feces and rot. I’ve sussed no pattern to it.

I’ve only six followers here – why? I only blog when I feel like it and the public is fickle, they want entertainment every day or they forget you exist. that is okay, this is a place for me to write and sharing is a sideline because I somehow feel better about it once I’ve hit “publish post”.

July 10, 2010

shifting rock, unable to roll.

by jhon baker

I really want to stick with yesterdays poem for the remainder of the weekend.
find that here: poem to Richard Daley

Today we shifted a lot of rock around the yard. Tomorrow I will do little as this has left me in visceral agony. I intend to complete my study into the psychology of Gerog Trakl tomorrow, I am tied to this poet though his malady and mine are different and of different intensity. The question remains – is good poetry only written after the poet has suffered the break – the full force of his/her psychosis if there is one. I believe no but there is an overwhelming amount of evidence suggesting that I am wrong.

I will continue to work on part two and post some of it on Monday if it is ready, If it is not I will post something else.

I use to leave milk and cheese out for the neighborhood cats when I was about 6. I didn’t know then that it was bad for them or that the raccoons were the ones probably eating it.

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