Pink Limousine

don’t look now, but
our speaker is chasing her tail
like a ball of yarn or a
lazy shoestring
a tuft of stray fur
jutting out beneath the collar
and a set of heart-shaped whiskers
perfectly feathered at the nose

to the left of our scene, a
landscape like a fishbowl
glittering under a giant sun ball
a pinwheel of spiral footprints
and the purr of an unknown engine
Fleetwood Mac is on the car stereo
Stevie Nicks in a black shawl
singing “Silver Springs”
while at the center a cat
sits behind the wheel
of a pink limousine

her fur is white and her collar
loose with diamonds, a single
silk scarf covers the ears and with the
wave of one perfectly manicured paw
she begins her serenade:

attention, ladies and gentlemen
lightning strikes maybe
once, maybe twice but
everyone knows that
cats are creatures from an
unknown paradise
newborn spirits come to earth
(just like Jules Verne once said)
to preserve the essence of living
*takes a sip of warm milk and
freshens her lipstick*

while you, you’ll kill yourselves with
excesses of productivity and discipline if
you’re not careful, she says as she swats
at a low-flying bluebird,
pop psychologists and
mindset gurus
the sameness of
philosophers and disparities
from a distant future
all prey on you being deficient
just as you are

*hops on top of that gleaming pink hood
and flicks her tail to the beat of “Little Lies”*
we’re all a little cracked
beneath the surface
—but you’ve got to remember—
who you are isn’t
something you were
born to disguise

and being is every bit as important as doing
never trust anyone who can’t understand
the value of stillness, she says, strutting
across a nearby tree branch,
or who tells you sensuality isn’t at
heart of every spiritual experience
*licks one white paw and
pounces on a lizard*
all the most beautiful minds
are crafted of music
wild with love and the
first sips of coffee

*replaces her
pink velvet driving gloves*
pleasure is a balancing act
and sophisticated laziness
a matter of careful cultivation

in the distance, a dinner bell sounds
the atmosphere is flooded with
clouds of pink smoke
and the smell of fresh fish
hitting the pan

This poem was inspired in part by the following image, created by my friend, Colorado-based artist, T. Blake, in response to the poem, Mannequin Planet It is now the featured image on that post.

4 Mannequin Planet

If you enjoy my poetry, you can find a great deal more of it in my debut chapbook, Seven Road & Other Poems (along with more of T. Blake’s original artwork). Available now on Etsy. Handmade to order.


15 thoughts on “Pink Limousine

  1. U, My favorite high flying act! My ethereal blimp is in the shop so I thought I would stop by from my comfort zone and five finger discount of a heart everafter, and praise you on this superb kitty ditty! Talent at its best! Nicely done! Neverland my friend, Never land! 🌹☀️

    Liked by 1 person

      1. Dear TheUsedLife,
        In rereading your beautiful answer to my comment, let me just say that I think you are simply wonderful. Thank you for your kindness, and I mean that with all my heart.

        Liked by 1 person

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