Sentient Creatures
{A Bumbershoot Special Feature}

Mollycat Jones

lives with her human companions, Christine and Ken Potter, and her brother, Desmond, in an old house that sometimes has mice. She almost caught a goldfinch once, but her brother got it instead. And Ken took it away from him, anyway. It flew off. A strict formalist, Molly believes that Christine’s book, Zero Degrees At First Light, would be OK if it had more metrical poetry in it. This is her second appearance in Bumbershoot.

—Back to Bumbershoot Contents—

Mollycat’s Nocturne

I wake the Big Ones in the night
with half-dead mice—or just for spite.
The Big Ones waste too long in sleep
at once. They snore. I don’t. I keep
my cat-naps short and still. How trite,

the way they gargle ’til it’s light
unless I give them just a slight
paw-poke. There’s no need to bite.
I use one claw—

extended, sharpened. What delight
to prick a cheek or nose just right
and rouse them from the dreaming, deep
enormous, snorting human heap
they’ve curled into. It takes no might.
I use one claw.