Cats, Remember isn't a poem I wrote for the occasion. The issue of women's rights isn't something that was invented for today either, it's just an occasion that calls for a reminder that we won't be property, we won't be subjegated, and that we won't be ignored.
This is a poem about cats, but it's important to remember something that's been observed in the fight against animal abuse: cats, in particular, tend to be "practice victims" of abuse, torture, and killings for people who go on to victimize women. There are speculations as to why the cat, male or female, is the species so often chosen in this case. Some believe it's the cat's independence and refusal to be fully tamed.
Special thanks to the Gertrude Poetry Journal, where this poem first appeared, the Gertrude Poetry Award, and The Dead Mule School of Southern Literature and The Blind Man's Rainbow where it subsequently appeared.
Cats,
Remember
Remember
the drowning,
young
rough edged hands and drawstring bags,
the
burn of summer evening sunlight on
burlap, thrashing
elbows
and knees of eight siblings and a mother, growling,
angrier
than a hiss.
Remember
the stomach drop plunge into
cold
still water and the frantic swish
of
claw cutting faces, ears, paws,
and
the cool feeling of blood
drawing
away.
Remember
the first to go down
sudden
stillness, an involuntary twitch.
Remember
when it was the one above you,
her
weight like a fist, pushing pushing.
Pushing
weight without movement, just the bearing
down,
the still heart and heavy ribs above you like the collapse
of
a tired house under the dark green weight of kudzu vine.
Just
one kitten lump and then another, smaller,
more
compact. There is no sound, only the silent dis-
solve
of another lifetime disposed.
Remember
this, when they feed you.
Remember
this, when the collar clicks on,
when
they stroke your kitten ears and pretend
to
love your slick satin coat and
the
white iron bones beneath.
Remember
this, when it is time
for
warm baths or revolution.
