Cat Piss Blues
I’m on my third beer
and listening to a scratchy whorl of vinyl,
a Mississippi delta blues singer
moaning his way through a checklist
of sorrows, mainly relating
to the woman who done him wrong.
Additionally, he ain’t got no friends.
The bank gonna foreclose. Devil
got his soul in hock for an old guitar.
Dude hasn’t mentioned it yet,
but I strongly suspect his dog is dead.
This morning, removing the car cover
after a night without rain,
my hands were wet and sourly scented.
My woman is faithful, my friends are true,
I’m up to date with the mortgage
and I never waited by the crossroads
at midnight. I don’t have a dog.
As a result of the latter, my neighbour’s cat
marked out my driveway.
It woke up this morning, no hellhound
on its trail, woke up this morning,
no hellhound on its trail,
pissed on my car and wandered off.
Cursory flick of the tail.
Neil Fulwood is the author of ‘The Films of Sam Peckinpah’ and runs film review blog Agitation of the Mind (www.misterneil.blogspot.com). He’s a member of the Alan Sillitoe Committee, who are raising funds towards a permanent memorial to be sited in Alan’s home town of Nottingham, UK. Neil co-designed their website www.sillitoe.com.
