Catnap
How cunningly a cat sleeps,
Sleeps in its whole heft and its paws,
Sleeps with its cruel claws
And predatory blood,
Sleeps with all its rings
Blazing in circles
To shape the geology
Of its sand colored tail.
I want to sleep as a cat sleeps,
Furred over in time,
With flint in its tongue
And its dry sex afire,
Talking to nobody,
Stretching my length on the length
Of the world, over roof tops and clay,
Single-hearted in purpose
To hunt down the rats of a dream.
Ive seen a cat shimmer
While sleeping, seen night
Invade it like a dark
Water; at times it seemed poised for
A fall, at times ready to wade headlong
Through naked drifts of snow.
Other times it seemed to grow huge
As a tigers great-grandfather,
To pounce, as it slept, in the dark, over
Rooftops, clouds and volcanoes.
Sleep, sleep, cat of the night,
In Episcopal pomp
In your stony mustache:
Preside over our dreams,
Direct the obscurity
Of our slumbering prowess
With bloodthirsty heart
And the long nape of your tail.
Pablo Neruda
I have often watched my cat Mr. Mischief as he sleeps and wondered what it would be like to sleep with such abandon, perched on three inches of window ledge. I think it might just be an adventure.
SAE
How cunningly a cat sleeps,
Sleeps in its whole heft and its paws,
Sleeps with its cruel claws
And predatory blood,
Sleeps with all its rings
Blazing in circles
To shape the geology
Of its sand colored tail.
I want to sleep as a cat sleeps,
Furred over in time,
With flint in its tongue
And its dry sex afire,
Talking to nobody,
Stretching my length on the length
Of the world, over roof tops and clay,
Single-hearted in purpose
To hunt down the rats of a dream.
Ive seen a cat shimmer
While sleeping, seen night
Invade it like a dark
Water; at times it seemed poised for
A fall, at times ready to wade headlong
Through naked drifts of snow.
Other times it seemed to grow huge
As a tigers great-grandfather,
To pounce, as it slept, in the dark, over
Rooftops, clouds and volcanoes.
Sleep, sleep, cat of the night,
In Episcopal pomp
In your stony mustache:
Preside over our dreams,
Direct the obscurity
Of our slumbering prowess
With bloodthirsty heart
And the long nape of your tail.
Pablo Neruda
I have often watched my cat Mr. Mischief as he sleeps and wondered what it would be like to sleep with such abandon, perched on three inches of window ledge. I think it might just be an adventure.
SAE
holly:
i lost count at 2,562. i need someone to help me count the ones on my back and ass.