Today's poem is Pâté by Jonathan Pessant. It is read by Gibson Fay-LeBlanc.
Pâté
for Selma
How much more love
can my black cat give
me than to leave me
the best parts
of an eviscerated squirrel?
I wonder about all those other
cat owners that fling their gifts
with sticks, that kick hearts
with the tip of their shoes,
wrap livers in tissue
trashing odes to vitality.
Not me! I put the livers and hearts
in a snack-sized Ziploc bag
and freeze them into nutrient nuggets.
Once every two weeks
after collecting sufficient organs
I dice them finely, dust them
with pepper, salt, splash EVOO
and sauté with onions, olives.
I share with Selma.
The first morsel goes to her,
she licks the demitasse spoon,
lick after lick, until clean.