Our new cat, Ajsing Bajsing, has settled into his new home remarkably well. He’s a really chilled out, well adjusted little guy.
This poem is about a rather more neurotic specimen.
Sometimes I wonder: should I drop
The act or should I still pretend
That in this house I feel at home?
That I’m not scared? what should my stance
Be? Should I bristle with my fur
And show you that I don’t belong?
Or should I just admit: I long
To go back to my mum and drop
Exhausted in her belly fur
And though I’m bigger now, pretend
I’m tiny still? The circumstance-
s Have all changed. Now this is home.
It doesn’t really smell like home
The flight of stairs is far too long
I need to keep a fighting stance
The cat next door can’t wait to drop
On me with claws out. I’ll pretend
I haven’t noticed, lick my fur
And then I’ll tear out tufts of fur
Cause I’m the boss of my new home
Well, if I’m not, I can pretend
Although I’m small, my fur’s quite long.
So I look big. I try a drop
Of milk, and drop my fighting stance
Some things about these circumstance-
s Aren’t so bad. They stroke my fur,
The people here. And never drop
Me. I still cannot call it home
But just perhaps, before too long
I will. But now I shall pretend
I’m angry. No: it’s just pretend
I drop my angry kitten stance
And let them know ho much I long
To let somebody stroke my fur
To feel at last that I am home
And drink my milk up, every drop
It’s been too long to still pretend
Now I can drop my fighting stance
And smooth my fur, and call this home
Tom Juniper Poetry 