OLD TOM IS DEAD

WILLIAM EMERY

 

father walloped the children

for it didn’t matter what

mother was a weathered

board for the hearth

fire mice fed the cat

 

the wood was the wald and whole

winter too longer and wetter than now

a long description of heavy snow

a shriek a shatter of words as though

formed by maws snouts trumpet paws

intended for other purr purposes

 

ooooooooooooooooooollllllllllllllllldddddddddddddddd

tooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooommmmmmmmmm

isssssssss deeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaddddddddddd

 

oldtomisdeadoldtomisdeadoldtomisdead

you are now the king of cats

 

the family but scenery the black notch eared

hearth side haunt upright and called to other duties

cannot manage the latch royal ermine robe trout

scale rings scepter of salamander spine phoenix

beak crown and eye that has fixed the world’s bowl

of cream within it careens into the soup fire hies the smoke

up the chimney road to presumed claw post palaces mother

father children and mice have half the tale the slammed door

there’s been blood

on the words

ever since

and a blizzard

in the guise

of each day

 

 

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