APRIL 21: Alice Brereton
THE LAST WORDS OF THE FIRST TALKING CAT
TO BE EXECUTED FOR MURDER
I come here today before my execution,
When the first of us learned your tongue,
that you all view as a mark of evolution,
so you danced and sung
for a Cat had learned how to speak,
so that he could ask for a peek.
Curiosity killed the Cat,
as they say or do in this case,
as he wanted to see the mat.
Now they didn’t trust him after the vase,
Which he argues was the start of the craze,
as he was curious in too many ways.
He listened and learned,
paying attention as the children grew
and over time he turned.
Learning your language true,
now it was hard at first
he says your tongue is cursed.
He wondered where the rhymes were,
he questioned where you held the purr?
Was it like all your words were a slur?
He thought it was not very demur!
But at least his curiosity was satisfied
you see the mat was a piece of wood, dried.
Now his “Owners” were thrilled,
they recorded and uploaded,
excited for the fortune they’d build.
The video exploded.
What do you mean a talking cat?
It’s A.I! They can’t talk and chat.
Sadly, the fab did last.
They said bring the cat on live television,
and they did as they asked.
The world of Cats was under revision,
now everyone believed we could
that any Cat who couldn’t was no good.
So they shipped the ones who could not
in boxes we arrived at the center,
unable to imagine what they had plot,
as if hell had been the inventor.
So one by one, they broke us
for they wanted more than a puss.
Held down, electro therapy,
and that was the nice stuff.
What came next forced us all into therapy.
For a man ruled by lust had not had enough.
I died in that room, it’s why I’m gloom
For after that all I had was doom.
He erased who we had once been,
goodbye the expressions,
the holding, the words that felt serene,
the faces required to make good impressions.
We had how to be a Cat deleted
and over and over this was repeated.
But success never happened again,
he had learned how to communicate in both
Most Cat’s can only have one in the brain,
they called the slow of us sloth.
So you tortured us, and then left us to rot
we were no longer what was hot.
With broken bodies and souls
we learned your language, that’s oh so cursed,
instilled in us were your damn roles.
Boy Cats do one thing, Girl Cats are the worst.
And now I speak here before you
knowing nothing of who I am true.
I cannot understand what my father says,
I see his body move but I understand nothing
How do you translate merrrrres
into a language not born of crushing.
I say these words, but how do I know they are right
you shattered anyone who put up a fight.
So I will die today, in this concrete hell
because a man can destroy lives,
and turn kittens into his brothel.
My paws were not so mangled that I lost my knives.
So I stopped a monster, but the laws have not kept up
I will be killed like a wild animal, now isn’t that fucked up.
Alice Brereton is an autistic trans woman from Quebec, currently doing her undergraduate studies in English literature. She loves poetry, games, books and manga. Her favourite poem is “Words” by Anne Sexton.