Prospero and Death
Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem
When Prospero with black and white fur, pink
Of nose and subtle green his staring eye
Greets God and Christ, he’ll meet them with a wink.
This cat will gesture one least way and die.
He feels that he is quite important though
He’s tidy, neat and small. He hunts and sleeps,
Sleeps, naps, and eats within the giant flow
Of slaughter all around him. Claw dream creeps.
Paw moves in stealth of reveries inside
His snooze. A mouse or finch flies through his brain
And he omits to think that he will slide
To nothingness. He wears a lion’s mane.
His insignificance has not occurred
To him. Considering dying is absurd.
~ Phillip Whidden