Mrs. Norris, Frustrated, Poetical

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Not everyone hates you.   – hmm...

Though it may be true that everyone hates you, and so you
hate everyone, it is not all bad.  I love you.   Norris..

poetry, Norris.  poetry.  meter, furrball.  rhyme.

What do they know, the ones who look
At your crooked back, knot limbs, and loathe?
Loathe them, too. Those squelching brats, broomsticked, clothed
In slipshod robes, asqueak about books,
Spells, holidays and goals. Gits. Those
Constipated teachers with their wands up their nose,
Their heads stuffed with fog and their beds
Plush with feather. We loathe them all! The happy ones; fed
Ones; pretty ones; fat ones... The ones who frolic.
The ones who glower. Particularly
The smiling. And the pitying. Stuff their pity
In their latrines! Yes, Filch is old. Yes, Filch
Is mean. You like to skulk, and you like to squash their play. But, little
They know, who loathe and yet have never owned bones, crooked and brittle.

that's bad.  depressing.

When we skulk

When

When we sit alone in the dungeon,

oh, whiskers.

When we sit alone in the dungeon, in our room, with the
stone walls cold, unwashed laundry, the dinner leftovers molding,
        your mumbling over the candle sounds, in the dim clutter, the
litter, like the lap of a tide faint, and dry, breathing me to sleep.

unwashed laundry: does that just kill it?
less dismal. more passion.  come on, it's not that difficult.
blimey,

if god made me a woman
I would burn down
your prison, eat
through the walls, set free the great hunk of
man raging inside you! kindle
booming bamwhambamming
steam! unplug
your veins, I would
ungnarl your fingers unknobble
your knees: we would blaze
blinking volcanoes, baby! melt
affliction – strip years, lines warts spots stomach
ulcers away, strip them
off – I
would make you
glad, and
laugh!
sing! bellow,
in our heat, we would erupt
free of all drudgery
and disdain, roaring mad
and young unstoppable untameable loving free
scorching suns giving birth –hallo,

psychotic...  is it that time of the month, or what?   god.
  try again.

You have only me and I have only
You. We are like two shades of a single shadow. Two pupils in one eye.

                                                too abstract.
                                              two pupils.. one eye:  sounds like a deformity.

let's just keep it concrete, furball.   keep it real.

Thank you for searching through the kitchen refuse for fish guts for me.

stupid, stupid, stupid.

Albus Dumbledore and Harry
Potter will be remembered by children;
They are for pretty stories and songs
For infants. You are the stuff of
Shakespeare, Dostoevsky, Sophocles

no.

I wish

I think   that   ... i don't

            Argus, do you

..know!

Filch and Mrs. Norris forever Filch and Mrs. Norris forever Filch and Mrs. Norris forever
Filch and Mrs. Norris forever

                                                                      come on!

rats  pen caps  shavings crumbs old
note corners. only
you do not shun gifts.

well,

rats  bottle caps shavings

oh no.
Norris, quick!  oh, god:  What do they know, the ones who look at

your crooked back and  oh

he's calling! he's calling me!

meiow

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