A nostalgic choice for this week’s poem (nostalgia for my long ago college lit studies) - but also a choice with a tie to my love of the mystery genre-
from T. S. Eliot’s “Macavity: The Mystery Cat”
Macavity’s a Mystery cat: he’s called the Hidden Paw -taken from Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats
For he’s the master criminal who can defy the law.
He’s the bafflement of Scotland Yard, the Flying Squad’s
despair:
For when they reach the scene of crime - Macavity’s not there!
Macavity, Macavity, there’s no one like Macavity,
He’s broken every human law, he breaks the law of gravity.
His powers of levitation would make a fakir stare.
And when you reach the scene of crime - Macavity’s not there!
You may seek him in the basement, you may look up in the
air -
But I tell you once and once again, Macavity’s not there!
In my book . . . it’s the cat’s meow!
