The Nine Deaths of Ugly the Cat
goes like this:
C is for Car
Ugly
D is for Deluge
Ugly
E is for Evolution
Ugly
F is for Fleas
Ugly
G is for the Gardener, Rosa MacGregor
Ugly
A is for Aliens
Ugly
B is for Boys
Ugly
C is for Cops
Ugly
D is for Dogs
CAR
Rubber on the roadway. Oil and steel and glass.
From place to faroff place, we putt putt putt putt putt.
Careen around the corner. Guzzle up the gas.
Breeze on by a stop sign. Acce –
was that a speed bump, or what?
UGLY
I’ve stalked the streets of this city
Fallen on my feet since I was a kitty
My bones are beat. I eat shitty.
Only got one eye, but I can see that the world is just like me:
Rough and tumble, but ready to crumble
And it ain’t pretty.
DELUGE
Deliver indefinitely
Debris into the street strewn indifferently
Fall and flow into infinity
What goes up must come downUGLY
You must think it’s pretty cool, right? Having nine lives? Most humans only get one life. Some don’t have a life at all. Once I heard one tired old hag saying to another tired old hag, “Bess, I’d kill to have another life.” You mean another life sentence? Because that’s what nine lives really means: nine death sentences. Nine glorious ways to die. And believe me, the living doesn’t get any easier.
EVOLUTION
The sharks are ever sharper. They scour the sea for bait.
The fish are swimming faster. Their fins begin to elongate.
The water’s getting warmer. The weather will not wait.
A natural disaster. Too slow, too weak to find a mate.
UGLY
Some cats have it real good. You know who I mean? The fat cats? The ones with slick shiny whiskers and straight sharp claws, the ones who have humans to shovel up their shit and put out a fresh bowl of Friskies twice a day, the ones that kinda smirk at you and purrrr real luxuriously from the top of a floral sofa behind a huge bay window? Well, I’ve never been one of those. I was born an ugly cat. And then a Cadillac flattened me into a flapjack – do you think I got any prettier?
FLEAS
We are fleas! We are fleas!
We suck at what we please!
We sap your energies and hop about on tiny knees!
What fun! What glee! We’ve such agility!
Better hope you don’t contract Lyme disease. . .
UGLY
I’ve stalked the streets of this city
Fallen on my feet since I was a kitty
My bones are beat. I eat shitty.
Only got one eye, but I can see that the world is just like me:
Locked out in the cold, it's angry and old
And it ain't pretty.
GARDENER
So I’m minding my own business, you know, minding my peas and cukes, as they say, and my radishes and carrots, when who shows up but that godawful cat, ugly as a ferret. And I say to myself, “Rosa, you know cats don’t normally eat vegetables, but this ain’t exactly your average cat.” So I glare at it, I try to stare it down, but shoot! I guess if I was that ugly, I wouldn’t be scared of no tiny old woman’s angry face, either. Well, finally I can’t bear it, I run after it and try to scare it, but I lost control of the garden hoe and, well, I never meant to, but you know how it goes. . .
UGLY
After Rosa MacGregor severed my spinal cord with a rusty garden hoe, she gave a little gasp. It wasn’t an apology, really, more of a realization of her own ugliness. (Excuse my French. Normally I don’t use four-syllable words.) Anyway, the moral of the story is that there’s far uglier things out there than humans. Maybe even uglier than yours truly.
ALIENS
We have discovered a small, aqueous planet that appears to be capable of supporting life. But after landing, the only creature we encountered was a bloated, diseased-looking quadruped with a limp tail and a strangely asymmetrical head – on one side, an eye and an ear; on the other, two holes. Life on this planet, it appears, is harsh and bizarre, more bizarre than we had imagined.
UGLY
The aliens were nice – but damn, I thought I was ugly! They gave me all kinds of food and drink, some of it a bit off-color or funny smelling, but hey, I’m used to eating things like that. And ever since the dissection I've told myself, Ugly, would it kill you to be just a little more, oh, what's the word, damn, oh, it's, it's, a little more faithful? no. . . a little more gracious? no. . . ahh, human's got my tongue. Anyway, it's getting towards the end here, so I might as well get to the moral, which is that you never know what delicious treats those three-legged space-spooks might toss your way before they kill you. So if you have to reward them by tossing back a lung or two, well, one life out of nine is a fair price to pay for, say, a hot, plump pigeon or a creamy tuna melt.
BOYS
Big boots stompin through the street
Bounce a basketball awhile, find a bite to eat
That cat, always lookin beat
Here, hand me that BB gun. Don't worry, I'm only aiming for his feet. . .
UGLY
Sure, they shot me in the leg, and sure, they left me to wither in the rain, and sure, I bled to death slowly and uncomfortably, but you know, that leg was already getting gimpy. And I like the rain, I find it very peaceful. And I've died in ways that were more uncomfortable. The car seems like it'd be quick and easy, right? Nope. But I guess the first time being run over is usually the worst. Worse yet were the fleas - oh, the fleas! So, I am content. No, that's not really the word. Satisfied. No, that isn't it either.
COPS
We sweep the beats of this dirty town
We keep it neat, we put our feet down
We enforce two laws: the continuity of up and down
And the conservation of sound.
UGLY
Oooh, ooh, I thought of the word! Remember? Ugly, would it kill you to be just a little more iiiiaieEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEERRRRRRRRRRRRRRHHHWWwwwww
