THE CAT'S MEOW: Poem, Paraphrase, Epitome

THE CAT'S MEOW

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THESE  texts can be read for pleasure or used as aids in teaching creative literature, parody, paraphrase, or epitome.
    The featured poem is an obvious homage to Edgar Allan Poe's "The Raven," with (in one stanza's repeat of the final line) an allusion to Robert Frost's "Stopping By Woods On a Snowy Evening."
    Thus the poem can be used as a model of creative variation or parody.
    By itself, the poem can be used to teach transitional coherence strategies in pairing rhymes with a degree of inevitability .
    Of course, the heightened use of diction makes any poem useful in teaching precise vocabulary.
    Additionally, a prose version is included; so either version can be used to teach paraphrastic skills.
    Finally, the paraphrase is reduced to its kernel content, as an example of the writing exercise called epitome.

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THE CAT'S MEOW
(Verse Version)

ONCE upon a holiday
While I slept my life away
I thought of getting up, but wondered how:
Just then I heard the single word, "Meow!"

I suddenly became aware
There was a campus reading room, somewhere;
I even thought of going there,
And for this purpose made a vow,
But then I heard the single word, "Meow!"

Lazily I lingered in my bed:
Yawning wide, I then began to scratch my head;
I knew that some day I would study, but not now:
For still I heard the single word, "Meow!"

Conceding there were poets I should know,
And since there was no place for me to go
That day, I read some Edgar Allan Poe,
As if to get my mind from off the row
That came from outside, sounding like, "Meow!"

And then I wondered what that sound might mean
That seemed to come from just outside the screen;
I asked it if it wished to have some chow,
But all I heard in answer was, "Meow!"

I rummaged in my memory
For women whom I knew to be
Stricken with an allergy:
But even the allergic Nancy Gow
In springtime never uttered a Meow!

I wondered who on earth could make that sound;
I scratched my head some more and frowned.
I shouted, "If you're selling something, say so now!"
But all it answered was the single word, "Meow!"

"Perhaps it is some food you wish,
"Like sausage and a cole slaw dish;
"I'll fry a fine Vienna fish,
"With Guinness or a Lowenbrau!"
But all it answered was the single word, "Meow!"

I thought he might be from another land,
So tried a foreign phrase he'd understand,
Like "Guten abend!" "Buonas diaz!" "Ciao!"
But all it answered was the single word, "Meow!"

Perhaps this was not man at all, but beast:
A hungry zombie who was once deceased,
But now intent on making me his feast:
A slimy creature from a hellish slough:
A demon who could only say, "Meow!"

"Fiend!" I cried. "Then were you sent from Hell
"To torment me? If not, I beg you tell
"Your purpose now, before you frighten me and how!"
But all it answered was the single word, "Meow!"

So there I lay, reflecting in my brain,
Until I heard that woeful howl again;
Just like the first time, then as now,
It spoke the single word, "Meow!"

I feared I could not bear such agony for long,
The two-note refrain of that tuneless song,
As if a demon had a hammer and a gong;
Or if a novice violinist with his bow
Could only scrape one dismal tune, "Meow!"

Just then I heard a scratching at the door,
I, trembling, asked myself, "What for?"
I screamed, "Away, you thief!" and creased my brow
In fear. But all it answered was the word, "Meow!"

Assuming he was out to kill,
I felt a sudden deathly chill;
I thought of making out my will,
Including relatives I would endow;
And all the while I heard that word, "Meow!"

Now staring at the frontyard tree
The thought appeared quite suddenly
That I could end my misery
By hanging from its topmost bough;
As if to goad me on, it cried, "Meow!"

But then I thought, "Oh, what's the use?
"For I don't even have a noose
"And relatives would have to cut me loose!"
That was a burden I could not allow.
But still it uttered just the word, "Meow!"

The scratching went on as before:
I didn't want him prowling anymore,
And so to scare him with a noise inside my door
I aimed my fist against my palm, and pow!
But still it answered just the word, "Meow!"

The fever burned inside my weary head
And almost made me wish I was in school instead,
With Donne and Shakespeare, though I really dread
That dumb archaic usage, like "Enow."
As if to mock those bards, it said, "Meow!"

Attempting now to pacify my mind
I vowed to leave all fearful thoughts behind
And read aloud from verses of the Tao,
But still it uttered just the single word, "Meow!"

What good was wisdom, then, I wished to know?
I might as well go back to reading Poe,
With his Rue Morgue and raven; though
A saner man was Vergil, with his plough
And farm, far from shrill yowlings like "Meow!"

It suddenly occurred to me,
Perhaps it was a neighbor come for tea,
Like lonely Farmer Friggs, with his pet cow:
But what I heard was not a "Moo," but a "Meow!"

I wondered what my German mom would do
If she were still alive, and Papa too!
He'd say, "There's someone calling, meine Frau!
"Achtung! Es ist nicht Deutsch, das wort, 'Meow!'"

And then I thought of those departed souls
Who, having died, return in different roles.
Revived in hope, I shouted, "Mutter, is it thou?"
But all it answered was the word, "Meow!"

Suspense had filled my brain with dread,
It almost made me get up out of bed,
But when I tried, I strained my back instead!
Not fond of pain, I shouted, "Ow!"
Still all it answered was the single word, "Meow!"

I pined to get away from there
And was quite willing to go anywhere:
By air first-class, or towed aboard a scow:
It didn't matter anyhow,
So long as it was far from that "Meow!"

Now thinking that perhaps all hope was lost,
I sought some comfort at whatever cost;
Discarding Poe, I read some Robert Frost.
Yet still it spoke the single word, "Meow!"
Yet still it spoke the single word, "Meow!"

Aroused from desultory reading in my flat,
My intuition told me strongly that
Perhaps the sound came from my neighbor's cat,
Who only knew two vowels. "Wow!
"It's just my neighbor's cat who says, 'Meow,'"

I thought, relieved. But so excited after that,
It happened I forgot the English word for "cat,"
So using Chinese asked, "Are you my neighbor's mow?"
But all it answered was the word, "Meow!"

Arising from my bed (don't ask me how)
I saw the fiend that uttered that "Meow."
I let her in and fed her feline stew;
Now peacefully she purrs, and murmurs, "Mew!"
Now peacefully she purrs, and murmurs, "Mew!"

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THE CAT'S MEOW
Prose Version

IT happened one holiday that, puzzling over how to get out of bed, I heard what  sounded like, "Meow." Believe it or not, I had pondered going to a reading room somewhere on campus, until I heard that sound.
    I stayed in bed, yawning and scratching my head, vowing better study habits another day, without such distractions.
    With nothing to do, I chose a book by the American poet, Edgar Allan Poe, to take my mind off that meow. But it persisted outside my screen.
    "Is it food you want?" I asked.
    Whether from hunger or not, it said, "Meow."
    I racked my brain thinking of allergic women I knew, like Nancy Gow. But even when she had hay fever she never sounded like that.
    Scratching my head and frowning, I thought who else it might be.
    "What are you selling?" I shouted.
    If it had a sales pitch, it was just meow.
    "If you want food, I'll prepare a dish, and some beer."
    But its only food order was meow.
    Suspecting a foreigner, I tried different phrases I knew, addressing him in German, Spanish, and Italian. But he answered in the one language he knew, "Meow."
    Fearfully I considered it was a monster, like a zombie, who came to devour me; or perhaps a serpent that crept out of some dank sewer.
    "Monster!" I sreamed. "Did you come from Hell to harm me? If not, tell me why you're here before you scare me to death!"
    Monster or not, it answered, "Meow."
    I lay thinking along to the tune of that dismal meow. It sounded like a hammer hitting a gong; or like an amateur violinist able to play just two notes. I feared I could not listen to its eerie serenade much longer.
    Now trembling, I heard scratching at my door.
    I thought it was a thief and tried to shout him away. My brow creased in tension as I heard its minatory meow.
    I felt a cold fear, expecting to be killed. As the meows continued, I considered making out a will to my family.
    Then I noticed a tree outside my window and thought of hanging myself, ending my agony. The voice encouraged me with, "Meow."
    But I realized I had nothing to hang myself with. Besides, I didn't want my relatives to have the sad task of cutting me down.
    Meanwhile the meows and scratching continued. I banged my fist into my hand, hoping the loud noise would scare him away. But he made a louder noise, "Meow."
    Hot with fear, I almost preferred school. Hearing the old-fashioned language of Shakespeare and Donne was better than hearing those forlorn moans of "Meow."
    In an effort to calm myself, I read out loud from the "Tao Te Ching." But reading Lao-tze was no better than reading Poe, I concluded. Insted, I envied Vergil, privately farming, safe from noises like "Meow."
    Then I suspected it might be our local farmer, Mr. Friggs, come for tea. He had a cow he was fond of and perhaps he had brought it along. But I heard "Meow," not "Moo."
    I thought of my dead parents and what they would do. Speaking his native German, my father would warn, "Oh, wifey, someone's at the door, and he's not speaking German."
    I considered reincarnation and asked the voice if it was Mom. But it answered in an unmotherly manner, "Meow!"
    I now panicked and strained my back trying to get out of bed. Mingled with my howls of pain was the howl of that meow!
    I longed to be anyplace else, away from that sound. Feeling hopeless, I read some Robert Frost for solace, but his rhymes jarred against that meow.
    I hoped it might be my neighbor's cat. But in my confusion, I couldn't recall the English for "cat." I shouted out the Chinese word instead. It replied, neither in English nor Chinese, "Meow."
    Somehow I got out of bed and saw it was, after all, only the cat. So I fed her cat chow.
    Now she purrs and mews. But we're both better off.

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THE CAT'S MEOW
Epitome

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ONE lazy holiday, determined to better my study habits, I was disturbed by a constant meowing. I read Poe to ease my mind, but the meowing continued.
    Impatient, I asked what it wanted. I thought of acquaintances with an allergy who might sound like that. Or perhaps a foreigner, even a monster.
    No matter, I got the same response, meow.
    I heard scratching at my door, which sounded like a thief. Fearing death, I thought of making a will, then hanging myself, but reconsidered. Instead, I tried to scare it away, making a loud noise.
    Nothing worked. I was afraid and wished I were in school reading, no matter how strange the language of our textbooks.
    To find peace, I read Lao-tze, then thought with envy of the poet, Vergil, on his quiet farm.
    As the meowing continued, I thought of a neighbor with his pet cow. But it didn't sound like a cow.
    I thought what my deceased parents would do. I even imagined my mother had returned to life. But my mother wouldn't meow if I asked her a question.
    Frightened, I strained my back trying to get out of bed. I wished I were anywhere else, then read some Robert Frost to calm myself.
    Finally I suspected it was the neighbor's cat. I got out of bed, opened the door, and there she was! I fed her and we're both happy now.

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