Catnap Poem by ed purchla

I used to have a button,
back in my button-wearing days;
azure background
and Garfield in his patented
magenta boxbed, tucked in his
celestial blue blanket.

I picked it up from some
table that was vending
pins and buttons in
Union Square, and I
felt lucky that there
was only one left
like when I was younger
and I scored a bootleg
recording of one of my
favorite bands.

Garfield himself hadn't
arisen yet, stretching his
arms out, throwing off his
blanket, as he did when it
was Halloween, rather,
he opened his eyes slightly
and in his speech balloon,
it said, simply,
'Is it Fascism yet? '

The four words struck a
chord, bearing potency in
their juxtaposition with
the typically sardonic,
amusing, and oftentimes even
affectionate and/or poignant cat
and his ensemble that
never approached those
traditionally taboo
subjects of politics
or religion, which few
comics that appeared in
newspapers, dared to tread.

Very few apathetic New Yorkers
ever took that second glance
to see what Garfield was
saying, most likely because
they didn't care about him,
the comic, or, of course,
me, the man bearing such a
button.

However, one early morning,
on the way home from my
second job, feeling fatigued
and repulsive, drooling on
myself trying to stay
awake, slumped against the
bar at the end of the
train seats that were
peppered with people,
all rode hard and put away wet,
one man stood up, balancing himself
by clenching a stanchion,
awakened by the sheer anticipation
of finally getting to his stop.

Glancing at me quickly,
then returning to staring with a
rising smile, as the train left
the underground to the aboveground
allowing the brilliant early
morning sunlight to flood
the train, making the man's
smile of soon-to-come freedom
occur simultaneously with
the lift of his right hand
to block the glare from
shining directly in his eyes.

Knowing that I was in for a
lengthier ride and irritated by the
sun's glare, I closed my eyes
and crossed my arms, figuring
I'd sleep the rest of the way.

When the man clenching the
stanchion began speaking to
me, I opened my eyes to look
at him.

'Wow, that button is a trip!
I saw it a minute ago. Just saw
the cat in the bed. That's
Garfield, right? Cartoon cat?
S*** man, then I read what he
was saying! '

A pause in his excitement while
he turned away,
no doubt revealed the gears
moving, deliberating,
and as the train stopped, he
turned back towards me, with
much less excitement.

'Sure hope he goes back to sleep.'