Hello, furriends, curious creatures and poetic prodders. Today, I encountered a poem that’s short, sharp, and – how shall I say it – unapologetically suspicious of cats and the humans who adore us. Naturally, I had thoughts. Let’s take a look at this pointy little verse.
A Look at “Cat” by Kenneth Rexroth
There are too many poems
About cats. Beware of cat
Lovers, they have a hidden
Frustration somewhere and will
Stick you with it if they can.
My Thoughts
Ah, Mr. Rexroth. We haven’t met before. I’m Tyson. I walk on silent paws and wield sharp opinions. And I’ve just read your poem.
There are too many poems / About cats.
Now, I ask you—are there too many stars in the sky? Too many dreams in sleep? Too many naps in the sun?
Of course not.
There are simply too many poets who don’t know what to do with something as elegant and mysterious as a cat. So they flatten us into clichés. Or worse, mock us as if our very existence is some literary inconvenience.
Beware of cat / Lovers, they have a hidden / Frustration…
Let me see if I understand this: cat lovers are secretly plotting? Brimming with unspeakable tensions? Dangerous?
Darling. That’s not hidden frustration. That’s intelligence.
Cat lovers are not dangerous because they are repressed. They are dangerous because they see through you. They are people who value quiet. People who understand mystery. People who are not afraid to be alone with their thoughts—or their cats.
In short: they are your editors. And yes, if your poem is bad, they will stick you with it.
You’ve written another poem about us, while pretending to be done with us.
That’s the thing, Mr. Rexroth. You can resist us. You can scowl from your typewriter. But in the end, the cat always gets into the poem.
Even this one.
A Tribute: “Not Too Many”
A poem by Tyson the Cat
There are not too many poems about cats.
There are too many poems about
clouds pretending to be thoughts,
and leaves pretending to be change.
We do not pretend.
We sleep,
and it is sleep.
We stare,
and it is judgment.
We purr,
and it is forgiveness
you have not earned.
If that makes you uncomfortable,
then yes—
beware the cat lover.
They’ve been listening.
And they know where your metaphors fall apart.
The Cat Is Always in the Poem
Rexroth may grumble about feline overexposure, but let’s be honest: Cats keep showing up in poems for the same reason we keep showing up in sunbeams, boxes, and forbidden kitchen counters.
We belong there.
Poets don’t write about cats because they’re trendy. They write about cats because we are mood, myth, mystery, and metaphor—all wrapped in fur.
So yes, Mr. Rexroth. Beware the cat lover. Not because they’re hiding something… But because they’re watching.
Your Turn, Furriends!
Have you ever met a cat lover with poetic powers? Do you think we’ve truly had too many poems about cats—or not nearly enough? Leave your thoughts in the comments (unless you’re a frustrated poet with a cat allergy).
Purrs and sharpened metaphors,
Tyson 🐾
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