The Ernie Trilogy
Mews at Eleven
April 2001
Mr. President Bush, what's with Ernie?
Why couldn't you just have had him declawed?
Instead, you sent him on a long journey
westward. I fear
that you found him too flawed
with six toes.
Anne Boleyn had six fingers,
and we all know what Henry did to her.
My concern regarding Ernie lingers:
you put U.S. treasures above cat fur.
Shouldn't you be getting your values straight
at your age, and now in your position?
But no, you even crack jokes while you wait--
"He's in Malibu, surfin' or fishin'."
More likely, he's in the dark in L.A.
where people and cats all hate to be gray.
Mews at
Midnight
January 2002
As it turned out, scrappy Ernie was spied
strolling on the Avenue of the Stars
wearin' shades, thinking where else to abide.
He walked in the mall, past some famous bars,
went to the Shubert to see the play "Cats,"
maneuvered his way past all of the cars.
Saw people in jeans and women in hats,
same as folks in Washington, not on Mars.
Went to the Museum of Film and learned
like him, Marilyn Monroe was poly-
dactically challenged, yet never spurned.
So why was he involved in this folly?
Maybe he would go to Grauman's Chinese,
Get his six toes in cement, if he pleased.
Mews at
1:00 a.m.
He committed no feline felonies,
just wanted to be loved, like you and me.
Might have had a tendency to climb trees,
and a desire to be footloose, free.
So he couldn't live with our President,
now Ernie will stay in a Brentwood home,
though at first he was a bit hesitant,
kept inside, declawed, unable to roam.
Now he's quite comfortable every day,
eating his way to being a fat cat,
maybe not what his namesake, Hemingway
would do, but then Ernie can't write like that.
Angelenos hope he stays in L.A.,
and promise he'll never again be
gray.
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