UK Poet, Philosopher & Artist Ivor Griffiths' Official Website



The copers manage the damaged –
by hand, deftly;
coping and hoping it won’t rain,

not today anyway,

me cat’s being buried today he is:
got squashed by a car.
We pried him loose from the wheel arch
with a pointy stick. His eye fell out,
a black hole, a purpled star, like it was cauterized.

I cried when my cat died.
I did.

Ivor Griffiths 2007

Blog Poet UK

3 Responses to “Managing”

  1. Paul Says:

    Nice poem. Sorry about your cat!!

  2. banjo Says:

    The unlikely connection between manager-copers and the death of a pet, in all its gory detail, works for me. Ditto the flat, restrained conclusion, which could easily have been hysterical, fever-pitch.

    If you care to, try the dead dogs poem at, December 4, 2007. On some days, I know that author fairly well.

  3. dana Says:

    awww! :( your work’s great!

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