Fluffy Weighs in on the Baby
Melissa Balmain
It’s hairless as an egg—
why bother petting that?
It doesn’t purr or groom your leg,
and yet you feed the brat.
Instead of catching mice,
it grapples with its socks.
It’s never taken my advice
to use the litter box.
It can’t climb up a tree,
it can’t chase balls of string,
it leaves you zero time for me—
just eat the wretched thing.
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From Melissa’s collection Walking in on People (chosen by X.J. Kennedy for the Able Muse Book Award)
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Melissa’s notes: “I’ve written elsewhere about my fondness for persona poems like this one (here, for instance). So this time, I’ll just add an overdue thank-you to my first cats, Jem and Scout (RIP). Despite their clear misgivings about sharing a home with tiny humans, and despite said humans’ tendency to yank their fur and squirt them with water, they never clawed either of my kids. Writing this poem in their honor was the least I could do.”
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Melissa Balmain edits Light, North America’s longest-running journal of comic verse, and teaches writing at the University of Rochester. Her latest book of poetry is Satan Talks to His Therapist (Paul Dry Books). She’ll be leading a workshop or two this May at Poetry by the Sea in beautiful coastal Connecticut, and would love to see you there! melissabalmain.com.
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