Tonight's Poet Corner: Black Socks, White Spats
Black Socks, White Spats
by Belinda Roddie
Dear, sweet dapper cat:
Why do you have a pair of socks
on your head? The home run derby
is on, so clearly, we have no time
for such woolly shenanigans.
Big, beautiful black dapper cat,
with these atop your noggin,
you appear to be like a nun
or a prophet, or a strange Sith Lord
ready to expel the truth from fanged
lips and purring tongue.
Green-eyed, spazzy dapper cat:
Now you have wound the socks
about you like a blanket. You sleep
in California sun and fog and dreams
of earthquakes and chasing bugs,
while the TV sings, and the humans feast.
by Belinda Roddie
Dear, sweet dapper cat:
Why do you have a pair of socks
on your head? The home run derby
is on, so clearly, we have no time
for such woolly shenanigans.
Big, beautiful black dapper cat,
with these atop your noggin,
you appear to be like a nun
or a prophet, or a strange Sith Lord
ready to expel the truth from fanged
lips and purring tongue.
Green-eyed, spazzy dapper cat:
Now you have wound the socks
about you like a blanket. You sleep
in California sun and fog and dreams
of earthquakes and chasing bugs,
while the TV sings, and the humans feast.
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