The Great Bookcase Disaster
Five shelves the right
width and depth.
A complete unit of
the perfect height.
by title. A decorative
figure placed just so.
And then the cat
oblivious to art,
indifferent to literature,
uses an upper shelf
to launch herself.
volumes shift, balance
is lost. Chapbooks
slide, pages splay,
Only the cat survives.
© Diane Mayr, all rights reserved.
I learned a lesson. If you buy something cheaply made, you get what you paid for. Oh well, back to piles of books on the floor until something a little more sturdy can be found at a reasonable price!
Climb on the back of your favorite flying cat and head over to The Iris Chronicles for the Poetry Friday Round-Up.
Photo by El Fotografo del Panico.
Sorry about your bookcase, Diane. As I write this my office kitty is trying to type as well. (Sometimes she tries to call or fax people. Yesterday she turned on the little contraption to blow away dust.) I had to clear a space for her to curl up on the top shelf of a bookcase in here, after many dislodged books!ReplyDelete
And it seems you went to so much trouble to organize! Sorry. Our cat of a while back sat at the top of shelves, so I learned that nothing could stay up there! Love the way you told this story, toppling through the verses, shifting, sliding, swaying. Perfect, & I'm happy about your cat.ReplyDelete
Oh, dear! And then the cat -- great line all by itself there. Great turning point for the poem.ReplyDelete
BTW, the link is wrong on the Poetry Friday Roundup, so you might have less traffic than usual...
Thanks for the info. about the link, Laura.ReplyDelete
I knew the bookcase wouldn't last, but I thought it would be longer than 2 weeks! I'm happy the cats were unscathed. Despite the recent disaster, I wouldn't trade my cats for anything!
Ouch! I've had that happen, though not due to cats but to earthquakes!ReplyDelete
This is in a much different mood, but do you know the part of HIROSHIMA by John Hershey, where he talks about the explosion, and about a person being crushed by falling books in the first moment of the Atomic Age? Gosh, I probably shouldn't bring that up here, where the mood is light-hearted. But I did think of it as I finished your poem. The "weight" of books...and, in your lovely poem, the floating quality of cats (almost Chagall-esque??!)
Funny you should mention Chagall, Julie!ReplyDelete
Yikes! Sorry about the bookcase, but glad the cats are okay.ReplyDelete
That Chagall! He's EVERYwhere!ReplyDelete
I'm feeling lucky to have an 18 pound kitty who's too big to get up on counters, tables, bookshelves...
Glad the cat's okay, but sorry your books are in chaos!!! Fun poem.ReplyDelete
Glad you liked the poem and thanks for stopping by!ReplyDelete