My Friend the Cat

 

Last night

I ran over a cat.

I behaved very badly,

always do around death.

I drove away,

came back,

drove away again.

Two weeks later,

found out that my drinking buddy

had owned that cat.

It wasn’t just the bar

that bound us anymore.

Tried to explain,

it wasn’t really my fault,

around a curve,

on a gravel road,

late at night;

it just ran under my wheels.

I hadn’t drunk that much.

It wasn’t really my fault,

but then,

whose fault was it?

Death always takes delight in

embarrassing me.

 

first published in Living With a Stranger: self portrait, 1993.

 

 

 

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About johnsmithiiimxiii

John Smith, IIMXIII is the avatar of an award winning poet, artist, etc. who still lives in the Palouse country of the Pacific NW. He has not received much notice with his prose . . . but as his avatar, I hope that he keeps plugging along.

7 responses to “My Friend the Cat”

  1. yassy says :

    Did it really happen

    Like

  2. bpsenapati says :

    Sad! I don’t expect such an ending!

    Like

  3. johnsmithiiimxiii says :

    It was sad. Just lost a cat friend two weeks ago to kidney disease.

    Like

  4. johnsmithiiimxiii says :

    Even with eyes pealed, the world always moves around you. I try to keep that 1000 yard internal sensor up.

    Like

  5. excellence says :

    Wonder words.!! so Sad your last night moment!!

    Like

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