a new sound

Monday, dec 22,2008
It's a little after 3pm. the cats outside my window are howling. getting some action. at least somebody is. noise of enjoyment, noise of organisms. no fake about it. I don't think cats fake it like humans. this sound goes on and on. my phone rings. it's my carpenter, my "right hand" man of the house project. The cats still keep going at it. I imagine it's doggy style, where the male is humping the shit out of the female, slapping into her while bracing his paws on her hips. I know that's not how it really happens, but I imagine it that way. The carpenter and I discuss our business. I'm on the phone with him for 18 minutes. And i hear different notes, different keys of the animals. some are higher than others. wow, not just one organism, but many. the sounds continue. The aching, howling, loud sounds continue after i leave the phone. i guess if i can't hear sharing shotgun wall neighbor action, then maybe i can stay tuned to cat action. Some action, at least. The sounds went on another 5 minutes or so and then stopped. I imagine again that the two are cuddling, spooning, like Stinky and Fraidy Cat, my 2 cats back at home. My cats are fixed, some say broken, but nonetheless, they have found true love between them. They pet (lick) each other, play with each other, sleep with each other, and hug/spoon/cuddle with each other. I know that's not what these 2 cats are doing, just after they had sex. it was probably a one time fling. they departed, didn't even smoke a cigarette, not even a kiss goodbye. it was probably "late-a, bitch" in this ghetto farm that i live in now. Perhaps, there was no word exchange. She got what she wanted, he got what he wanted. done. move on to the next gig. Perhaps, just maybe, the female was raped by the male? it happens. Her sounds were a call for help, not the sounds of enjoyment, but sounds of screams for someone to call the cat police? Maybe it was an ex-boyfriend, "get the hells out of me you fuckin' needle prick!" who really knows in the mind of a cat?

The usual daily sounds of the day start to begin up again. The dogs barking in the far background. The kids getting home from school, playing in their yard, the street. The yelling of the kids, the yelling of the neighbors, the loud cars go by. the music blaring as the car humps slowly down the street for someone to take notice. My car alarm goes off from either the loud sounds of a car or the kids missing a thrown ball as it bypasses them. The annoying music tune eventually ends after one or two rounds. My car alarm sound is now in the mix of the daily sounds of the Ghetto Farm. It is becoming the norm. Russell, the rooster, will be singing his nightly song soon in this Ghetto Farm that I live in now.