The Tuesday Poem

CAT by John W Sexton

My black coat is speckled with husks

of egg; fleas navigate the currents

of my fur, zig-zag over my itching skin;

ticks cluster behind my ears like jewels.

In the corner of each eye are crusted tears

of gunk. Infection has hitched cunningly

to my claws, my scratch will blacken

your blood in days. I’m no pussycat, I’m

just cat. I’m

the shadow of the crossed path, the ninth cat in a bad week, the cry like

a baby in the darkened hedge. I’m the mog

who shat the moon black. Don’t tease my ear

with your finger, puss-puss me like some

stuffed toy. I’m the cat of black luck, the

hiss from the basement, the compiler of rats

at the back door, and nobody’s purring pet.

From the collection, The Offspring of the Moon (Salmon Poetry, 2013). Originally published in Riddle Fence, Winter 2012.

*John W Sexton is the author of five collections of poetry, the most recent being The Offspring of the Moon (Salmon Poetry). His poem The Green Owl won the Listowel Poetry Prize 2007. Also in 2007 he was awarded a Patrick and Katherine Kavanagh Fellowship in Poetry.