By Thom Gunn
Cats met us at
the landing-place
reclining in the sun
to check us in
with a momentary glance,
concierges
of a grassy island.
(Attila's Throne,
the Devil's Bridge,
and "the best Byzantine
church in the world",
long saints admonitory
on kiln-like inner walls.)
And lunch in a shady court
where cats now
systematically worked
the restaurant, table
by table, gazing into eyes
pleading "I'm hungry
and I'm cute", reaching
front paws up to knees
and always getting
before zeroing in
on the next table, same
routine, same result.
Sensible bourgeois
wild-cats working
with the furred impudence
of those who don't pretend
to be other than whores,
they give you not
the semblance of love
but simply
a look at their beauty
in return for food.
Models, not escorts.
They lack, too,
the prostitute's self-pity,
being beyond shame.
And we lack
what they have.
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It was a kind of chaotic Wednesday. Paul worked from home because the restoration company our insurance is sending to rebuild the upstairs bedroom closet finally came to make sure the ceiling is dry post-roof repair, but they did not call before arriving as we were told they would, so I didn't get into the shower until they left around noon. Meanwhile, I had lunch plans with Alice, but her son wasn't feeling well, so she took him to get a strep test instead.
Paul and I went for a walk in the park in the afternoon since it was a gorgeous day, though we are worried because Daisy has been out of sorts all day beyond being annoyed about the machines upstairs and is acting like her ear is bothering her, so I need to call the vet tomorrow if this keeps up. She did not finish her own food, let alone try to steal anyone else's, which is very unlike her, and she slept mostly on the floor instead of one of the couches.
After dinner -- lasagna in a bag, a trial run for traveling -- we watched the 2008 remake of The 39 Steps, mostly for the cast, then we watched this week's What We Do in the Shadows, which gets more fun every week. Brookside Gardens currently has an exhibit on plastic trash by artist Keira Hart-Mendoza in collaboration with Margie Jervis, including a plastic Marie Antoinette and a representation of the plastics polluting our rivers and oceans using a Brookside fountain:
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