Herding Cats Through a Thesaurus
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Herding Cats Through a Thesaurus
I tried to shepherd adjectives today—
a feral flock of synonyms hissing in italics.
They scattered at “serendipitous,” clawed the drapes of “lugubrious,”
coughed up a hairball shaped like “persnickety” on the welcome mat of my draft.
Every time I shook the kibble tin of clarity,
they blinked at me with twelve different words for aloof.
My verbs refuse collars.
They slip out the back door of intention,
return at midnight with a raccoon named “juxtapose”
and a story that doesn’t quite parse.
I set out saucers of brevity—they prefer the cream of excess.
They knock “concise” off the counter
just to watch it fall in increasingly ornate ways.
And I, benevolent zookeeper of nuance, stand in a bathrobe of overthinking,
waving a laser pointer labeled “meaning,”
while the whole lexicon ricochets off the furniture.
The trick, I’m told,
is not to herd them but to let one curl in your lap—
purring a single, honest word
until it forgives you for the rest.
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This poem's title is the third line from one of my earlier poems, that poem was made up of incomplete sentences, that somehow made great titles.
I would love to know what you thought about this piece.
Please consider leaving a comment.
Very well done. (and clever)
ReplyDeleteA masterpiece.....or gem, jewel, prize, piece de resistance!
ReplyDelete~Mish
DeleteExquisite in your understandung of both; living with cats, and a masterful grasp of syntax, grammar, and creativity.
DeleteDogs play catch with thesaurii; cats have staff for that.
DeleteI do love this! Especially
ReplyDelete“ My verbs refuse collars.
They slip out the back door of intention,
return at midnight with a raccoon named “juxtapose”
and a story that doesn’t quite parse.”
Funny and so well written. Thank you for sharing!
I so enjoyed this poem, Chris, being a cat lover, linguist and thesaurus user. I love the alliterative ‘feral flock of synonyms hissing in italics.’, and the ‘hairball shaped like “persnickety” on the welcome mat of my draft’. I’m still smiling at this image:
ReplyDelete‘And I, benevolent zookeeper of nuance, stand in a bathrobe of overthinking,
waving a laser pointer labeled “meaning,”
while the whole lexicon ricochets off the furniture'
a bit like teaching teenagers.
Yes, I’d resort to that trick every time.
"My verbs refuse collars." I feel this every time I sit down to write.
ReplyDeleteI had a cat once it kept jumping and swatting at a dangling participle. Just wouldn’t leave it alone.
ReplyDeleteThis is rob kistner. Trying to comment was a nightmare, so I just used anonymous.
DeleteLuv this poem soooo much, wish i had written it
ReplyDeleteMuch love