I dreamt about the cat with the human face again. It was eating pork scratchings at the foot of my bed and thrumming like a hot machine. It crawled up the length of my sheet-swaddled self and rested its head upon my breast. A low song it sang to me, unrhymed and sepulchral, and it tenderised my body with its kneading paws of thorns.
I’ve got to stop eating cat food before I go to sleep.
Sunday, 27 September 2009
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
You are amazing Sack Posset. That is so beautifully written.
ReplyDeleteMmm pork scratchings.
ReplyDeleteVery nice.
Seriously, your word choice is so incredible and uniquely you...I love it.
ReplyDeleteHate to imagine what you would dream with a little peyote mixed in with the kitty chow.
ReplyDeleteYour imagination is a magnificent fountain.
ReplyDeleteI wonder what the cat dreamt about you.
Or maybe change brands?
ReplyDeleteThis week I am going to mix my Whiskas with baby food to see if I dream about babies with cats' faces.
ReplyDeleteOr a baby with a Cheshire grin and a disappearing face.
ReplyDeleteI like you. But this isn't as good as some would have you believe. I don't want you to get lazy. x
ReplyDeleteMantecanaut - gotcha, but that comment comes across as a wee bit patronising.
ReplyDeleteIt was sort of tongue in cheek. Though now I see it written down it seems that any humour my comment may have originally contained has evaporated.
ReplyDeleteBye.