100 WORD SKITTLE // Purrrfect Evolution

When you compare the cats of today to their predecessors, you realise just how tiny they’ve become. Domestication has taken the sabretooth out of the tiger, so to speak. Well, not quite all of the tooth, but you get my meaning.

On the other hand, cats have become much brainier, more sagacious. They’re so small that they must be quick on the uptake if they hope to continue to live in clover. Well, not quite in clover, but I’m sure you get my meaning.

Anyway, they’re cute when they purr, and only scratch and hiss occasionally. It’s a fair trade-off.

 

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2019

TATI’s & TONY’s DEAD POET TOUR // Nocturne by Edwin C. Ranck

A cat duet.
A silhouette.
A high brick wall,
An awful squall.
A moonlit night,
A mortal fight.
A man in bed,
Sticks out his head.
Gee Whiz!
The man has riz.
His arm draws back
A big bootjack–
A loud swish,
Squish!
“What’s that?”
A dead cat.

 

by EDWIN C. RANCK (1879-?)
Public Domain Poetry

THE CRUMBCAST // Jellicle Songs for Jellicle Cats

Look what the cat dragged in. Two old cats like us. Alley cat. Honky cat. Cool cats. Wild cats of Kilkenny.

Okay, so we’re not from Kilkenny. I’m just trying to shoehorn as many song titles with the word ‘cat’ into this introduction as I possibly can. Cats without claws. That’s probably the level we’re working at here. Listen in as Peter and I attempt to bring the conversation back to moggies, but to no avail. Yup, you could even say that we’re just playing cat and mouse with the topic! (Insert groan here.)

Come to think of it, I suppose the title of this post is a bit misleading too. There are no musical numbers, and certainly no kitties wrestling in jelly pits. Oh well, maybe next time.

PS: This is a bit strange, but if you want to listen to the sound then you should click on the picture below. Yes, it’s real magic in the digital world, I tell ya!

 

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2018

don’t call us, we’ll call you

he goes away with a drooped head
followed by the eyes of alley cats
without applause, without flowers
his key monologue remains unsaid

he goes away in a fading ray
stepping over scattered set and props
and wind frays his shadow on the wall
like the theater bill of a failed play

 

by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2018