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Rated: E · Poetry · Drama · #2020879
Blame it on the Grays.
A UFO once crashed to Earth
(a tale of woe for what it’s worth)
that shook the cold lanced lay of staid
because of all the force it made.

Now I was in my home at peace
and seeing to late autumn’s lease,
(a lease that Fall applies in ways
  combining cold with airborne grays)...

attending to my this and that,
including, yes, my jet-black cat
who seemed to sense the crash ere me
as mew on edge lowed far off key.

But then as mew tone faded fast
I heard an outré distant blast
and felt a tremor ‘neath my feet
as if it were the judgment seat

of angry goddesses or gods
below the Earth who were at odds
with static hold or status quo
intent to shake things to and fro.

I felt the floor bend like a snake
and saw a pane begin to break
as I, unbolted off my beam,
thought this was just some fiendish dream.

Then Stay-at-Home, my cat extant
in apprehensive feline rant
clawed up the drapes in panic burst
as shaking went from bad to worse.

Despite the imminent demise
of my own home I did surmise
that Stay-at-Home, if chance arose,
would bolt like brass amid such throes.

I grabbed a-hold of green love seat
as plaster chunks fell at my feet
and reached up for my precious Stay
when one more seism had its say.

Both inner wall and siding breached;
Stay’s way to go outside was reached.
He bolted quick, I gave a shout--
And that is how the cat got out.


40 Lines
Writer’s Cramp
12-5-14


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