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Poem

We're the Mafia cats
Bugsy, Franco and Toni
We're crazy for pizza
With hot pepperoni

Poem

In our flat
faces speak
of places across the sea.

In our flat
voices walk in
talking, but not like me.

Poem

All you see is outside me: my painted smile,
the rosy-posy shell, the fluttery eyes.
A butter-won’t-melt-in-my-mouth-type me

Poem

Toothless, she kisses
with fleshy lips
rounded, like mouth
of a bottle, all wet

She bruises your face
almost, with two
loving tree-root hands.

Poem

Midnight. A knock at the door.
Open it? Better had.
Three heavy cats, mean and bad.

Red Cherry Red
Poem

When I was born
I was a familiar,
a black cat, Satan’s favourite form.

The mysteries of zigomar
Poem

The phone rings
But never long enough
For the Slow Man.

By the time
The set’s switched on
His favourite programme’s over.

Poem

In the beginning was the word
and the word is ours:

the names of places,
the names of flowers,
the name of names,
words are ours.