Myth of Arrival

I am looking for a home for Ma Cat. Technically she is ex-Ma Cat since I took her to the Humane Shelter a year ago and had her fixed. Since I could not keep her (and still can't) I released her back into the wild. She disappeared during wintertime but come spring and now summer she has reappeared and desperately wants to be loved. She waits for me outside my door, has no fear of others and wants nothing more than to sit on my lap and be petted (contrary to the poem she is not bony and doesn't yowl like a turkey and is actually very quiet). I do not know if she is litter trained but I will pay for all her shots; my only concern is that she finds a nice home with someone who loves cats. I would certainly take her back if it didn't work out, she is too loving a soul for someone to take to the shelter to be destroyed … a fate I am afraid of when I finally sell my house and move to Grand Rapids.

If anyone is interested or knows someone who is interested please contact me at: zachary [dot] jean [@] gmail [dot] com. Thank you!

There is a cat with my noisy stutter.
There is a cat with my bony body.
There is a cat I will steal all her fur.
There is a cat yowling like a turkey.

No, muse of poets and daemons, your purr
is the song of comment. Your caterwaul
made my Orpheus weep blood. No, lesser
godling, you come when called. Rain and nightfall
made you slim. The sun fattened you. Yes, squint
as if to say, “I am so brief; are you
mine?” As if to say, “do not go away.”

There is a cat with a callused paw print.
There is a cat that coughs, a stonewall mew.
There is a cat; a stray, a stray, a stray.

I had written a poem for my friend Ekaterina, for the photo-poem project we are working on. Over the summer my friend, Calmfeeler, went on holiday in southern China and when she got back she sent me her translation of this poem, in Chinese! Amazing!

告诉我我的爱， 一定有人可以
如鸽子般从容。 我苍白乏力, 但
爱广袤的天空。 那些向上伸展的
公寓楼的触角， 他们将全世界的
信息统统收纳, 他们将已老旧的
上帝推下了床.。 一定吧, 我想,
穿过了这重门， 就是罗马
在冬日的天际， 在云之颠
看那一片粉紫 或是巴黎?
人生的腐味啊- 疼痛, 潮湿,
迷雾 - 难言 鸽子明白
带我去向远方 而这重门
我知道我能跨得过就已足够 升起了, 从
灰润的翅膀, 野粉色点亮了野粉色的日子

Here is the original:

Tell me that pigeons have it easy, my
dear, someone must. The sky is vast. I love
the sky, though I am pale. The antennae
of those apartments all rise up, they glove
the whole world in their messages. They shove
old God out of bed, they must, and I think
through this door lies Rome. It rises above
the clouds. You can see it all purple-pink
in the winter sky. Or Paris? The stink
of this life — sore, wet and smog — makes it tough
to tell. Pigeons know. They are my far link
to the beyond. And this door. It's enough
to know I can go. Rise on ruddy-gray
wings. Wild pink delight in a wild pink day.

Thank you my friend! You are a delight!

It is not often I am able to get my poetry published. A little while ago, out of the blue, a gentleman by the name of Maurice contacted me and imagine my delight when The Concelebratory Shoehorn Review agreed to publish not one sonnet, but four! I can think of no better word than Hurrah! to express my feelings.

Maurice, you rock!