The Cat's Pajamas by Kelly Ramsdell Fineman - a Poetry Friday post
YOU are invited to the launch party for my forthcoming chapbook with Maverick Duck Press. It will take place on Friday, March 13th, at 7 p.m. at The Daily Grind in Mount Holly, NJ. If their pricing holds (and I have no reason to believe otherwise), then copies ought to be available for $6, and will be available at the event and online through their website.
The name of my chapbook is going to be THE UNIVERSE COMES KNOCKING, which is the title of one of the poems in the book as well. (I shared it here on my blog a while back.) The first poem inside the book is this one, which I wrote while thinking about the phrase "the cat's pajamas", and about my own cat, Kismet, whom you can see below.
The Cat's Pajamas
are the footie kind -
white footies, to be exact,
with scratchy bits for traction.
Their crazy stripes -
entirely improbable -
are rendered in an impractical
thick, fuzzy fabric:
frighteningly hard to wash,
entirely inappropriate
on a hot summer's night.
The cat is not contrite.
Like a bedraggled buyer
at a discount superstore,
she goes everywhere
in her nightwear,
never caring what
neighbors think,
or if that pouchy bit
makes her look fat.
Sometimes it's good
to be the cat.
I hope you'll be able to come out for the chapbook launch on the 13th! In the meantime, if you're looking for other Poetry Friday posts, try clicking the box below:
The name of my chapbook is going to be THE UNIVERSE COMES KNOCKING, which is the title of one of the poems in the book as well. (I shared it here on my blog a while back.) The first poem inside the book is this one, which I wrote while thinking about the phrase "the cat's pajamas", and about my own cat, Kismet, whom you can see below.
The Cat's Pajamas
are the footie kind -
white footies, to be exact,
with scratchy bits for traction.
Their crazy stripes -
entirely improbable -
are rendered in an impractical
thick, fuzzy fabric:
frighteningly hard to wash,
entirely inappropriate
on a hot summer's night.
The cat is not contrite.
Like a bedraggled buyer
at a discount superstore,
she goes everywhere
in her nightwear,
never caring what
neighbors think,
or if that pouchy bit
makes her look fat.
Sometimes it's good
to be the cat.
I hope you'll be able to come out for the chapbook launch on the 13th! In the meantime, if you're looking for other Poetry Friday posts, try clicking the box below: