The Good, Short Life of Mouse the Cat

Gravity’s always got its gun
At your head, so, you know, no false,

Sudden moves, ok? Mouse, the cat,
Disappeared a few days after

Turning two. She was a hunter,
By birthright, but uncommonly

Good and fearless from the get-go.
Barely weaned, she killed a house mouse

And tore the hand that tried to take
It from her. She jumped on walls. She

Prowled on roofs, scaring the neighbors,
Leaping lightly off of ladders.

Birds she killed at a pounce. Lizards
She toyed with for hours. She gulped down

Scorpions, tails and all, to gag
Them back up. She was a sleek cat,

Happy to eat, happy to sleep.
We think a coyote got her,

But it could have been some mistake.
Gravity’s gun jumps with mistakes.