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Guntang 2d
an orange fire-lion
prancing in an empty void
at war with motionless ink
until a voice which says
don't touch the killing stones
the silver shimmer of mocking dance
breaks light-beams from the pale
scattering the blossoms of the burning
into the folding of the dark
until a voice which says
are you the tin-man or the straw hat?
I’m the black cat
the black cat
There was this little rat who was fat
Nobody liked him, but I took him in
Gave him a little hat  
And named him Ironclad
"Ironclad the fat rat"

My cat Wiccan didn't like him much
At first, he thought he was lunch
But soon they became friends
True friends till the end
They ate together, bathed together
And killed together
Did pretty much whatever
My two little treasures.
Tonight my feet must
smell like wild things
because my cat
keeps creeping up
onto the bed
or sneaking up on
my hanging limbs
and tickling my soles
as she tries
to breathe adventure in
It’s Hard Not To Be Optimistic: An Updated Sonnet to Science
by Michael R. Burch

“DNA has cured deadly diseases and allowed
labs to create animals with fantastic new
features.” ― U.S. News & World Report

It’s hard not to be optimistic
when things are so wondrously futuristic:
when DNA, our new Louie Pasteur,
can effect an autonomous, miraculous cure,
while labs churn out fluorescent monkeys
who, with infinite typewriters, might soon outdo USN&WR’s flunkeys.

It’s hard not to be optimistic
when the world is so delightfully pluralistic:
when Schrödinger’s cat is both dead and alive,
and Hawking says time can run backwards. We thrive,
befuddled drones, on someone else’s regurgitated nectar,
while our cheers drown out poet-alarmists who might Hector

the Achilles heel of pure science (common sense)
and reporters who tap out supersillyous nonsense.

NOTE: I am a fan of both real science and science fiction, and I like to think I can tell the difference, at least between the two extremes. I feel confident that Schrödinger didn’t think the cat in his famous experiment was both dead and alive. Rather, he was pointing out that we can’t know until we open the box, scratchings and smell aside. While traveling backwards in time is great for science fiction, it seems extremely doubtful as a practical application. And as for DNA curing deadly diseases ... well, it must have created them, so perhaps don’t give it too much credit!

Submitted to U.S. News & World Report

Dear Editor,

While I’m usually a fan of your magazine, as a writer I must take to task the Frankensteinian logic of the excerpt I cited, and I challenge you to publish my “letter” as proof that poets do have a function in the third millennium, even if it is only to suggest that paid writers should not create such outlandish, freakish horrors of the English language.

Somewhat irked, but still a fan,
Michael R. Burch

Keywords/Tags: science, fiction, quantum, physics, Hawking, Schrodinger, cat, DNA, infinite, monkeys, typewriters, Shakespeare, lab, animals, new, features
Brandon Diaz May 8
I realized my cat would only love me under two conditions
If I died
Or if I was feeding him
Preferable in that order
Marina May 1
Sitting in the front of shack,
I'm watching the rain falling.
Everything is so fresh,
All colours are very clear.

My cat is watching me,
Quietly from the high,
Wishing come down to me,
In his huge green eyes.

But he didn't make a move;
It's all in water and wet.
But that's ok i guess,
Still watching the rain.

The cat cought my look,
And i cought his look;
Playing the old look game,
Who's gonna blink first.

Thinking on victory, i lost.
The game made me laugh.
Both, still watching the rain,
Only in a different way.
This poem i wrote in 2 minutes. I don't know why but this moment was very inspiring. Anyway, i like this small and simple things that make me happy. This one was literally a droplet/little moment in my life.
He was a rat, she was a rat
down in one hole we did dwell
both were as pale as a witch's cat
they loved each other well.

He had a tail, she had a tail
both long and fine
each said 'yours is the finest tall
in the world, except for mine.'

He smelt the cheese, she smelt the cheese,
they both said it was good.
both remarked it would greatly add
to the taste of our daily food.

He went out, she went out,
I saw them go with pain
what happened to them i never can tell
for they never came back again.
Folorunsho Mike Iyanuoluwa
Poetic T Apr 22
An attitude of purrfect proportions.
              But those,
                              come to stroke me

Yo­u smile until there guest scampers
              over your feet "surprise,
Avery Aguilar Apr 22
people are often superstitious

perhaps a black cat isn't such bad luck after all
unless you ignore it completely
cause like all beautiful cats
they just want some love
like all beautiful cats
they just want some cuddles

why not give some cuddles
why not get some cuddles

man it sure would be fun
to just lounge around all day
and to itch and scratch things up
and to find someone to cuddle with or
to rub up against

man it sure would be fun
to just be a cat
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