Two Poems by John Grey

It’s a Cat’s World

No one was expecting cat evolution.
What are the odds that yesterday’s furry pet
would be today’s four-legged mailman.
And how they’ve grown.
Once, these felines wrapped around our ankles.
Now they come up to our waists.
And to our faces, when they stand on their hind-legs,
which they’re doing more and more.
Scientists say that, in a hundred years, 
cats will be doctors, dentists, architects, engineers.
They could even be fellow scientists 
pondering the snail’s pace of human progress
compared to their own genetic breakneck speed.
When they become our leaders, 
they may find they have no use for us,
could spay most of our numbers,
keep a few around as pets.
And here comes the mailman now 
with a letter for me,
with a message for my great grandchildren.

A Family of Grifters Watch Over Their Investments

It’s an evening of death.
It just hasn’t happened yet.
Silence prophesizes 
the events to come.

The old man is a shadow,
like a stain
that no scrubbing can erase.
 
The wounds are old.
Only the end will scab them over.
Hounds howl,
speak for all of them.

Out of the darkness,
a finger emerges,
points at each 
of the onlookers in turn
before it withdraws
into the blackness.

The moon’s as thin
as the smile of a cut throat.
There will be no rescuing light tonight.

Just family,
pale-faced,
some with pacemakers,
set to comatose,
others nervous,
biting on their hands.

Grasping, grifting family,
await their share.
Of his money,
once the will is read.
Of hell and damnation,
if he has his way.

John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident, recently published in Orbis, Dalhousie Review and Connecticut River Review. Latest books, “Leaves On Pages” and “Memory Outside The Head” are available through Amazon.

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