‘Missa’ – a poem about a tabby cat

This original poem, ‘Missa’, by Matthew Robinson, follows the structure of the Catholic Mass – moving through Kyrie, Gloria, Credo, Sanctus, Osanna, Benedictus and Agnus Dei – but instead of a sacred ritual, it presents a very raw, earthly encounter with suffering, helplessness and aftermath.

Missa

Kyrie

From fifty yards away I laughed

to see a creature acting daft.

Along the road a tabby cat

was prancing like an acrobat

and somersaulting everywhere.

Perhaps the sun and fresh spring air,

the April breeze, the balmy light

had caused this most amusing sight.

Gloria

The closer I got to the back-arching cat

the less that I thought it absurd.

With blood on its mouth, with claws out like nails,

it must be tormenting a bird.

Credo

Desire to interfere with nature’s course

runs deep in me. I raced to prise the thing

from feline jaws, to use whatever force

I could to liberate the bird. It should sing

once more; the cat should purr and somehow jack

its instinct in. Then, as I neared, a ring

of blood arrested me. The sunny tarmac

was no playground: cat and life were in divorce.

A passing vehicle had snapped its back.

Sanctus

Prancing, reeling, writhing in a frenzy

of uncoordinated consciousness,

the maddened helpless creature fought for breath.

No piercing screeches, just a hissing ball

of matted fur now rolling on the road.

Helpless too, I passed on the other side.

Osanna

Later, from my window, I dared

to glance. An inert bundle lay

in the gutter.

Benedictus

Hot morning bin liner shovel

crows stiff-so-stiff flies

fasten seal dumped

behind wall.

Agnus Dei

evening rubbish gone

By Matthew Robinson

Matthew is a British-Cambodian TV and film producer, director and writer.