2025 Second Prize: 'The Dead Cat' by Lightfoot Treadwell

The Dead Cat

The dead cat was found by a drone. It was told to move on.

Killed by a grenade.
No, a rocket.
No, it had been kicked to death.
No, it had been burnt/knifed/axed/shot/punched/starved/stoned to death.
No, it had been scared to death.
But what kind of monster could do that?

One side of the war claimed it.
Demanded the return of its paws.
The other side claimed it.
Demanded the return of its whiskers.
Let us mourn our dead cat.
Let us abominate your dead cat.
‘DEATH TO THE DEAD CAT!’

Some hissed the dead cat was a traitor.
Some whispered a double-agent.
The dead cat became a suave national hero.

Two young girls were filmed stumbling through smoke,
calling and calling a soft peculiar name.
A grandmother rocked back and forth, lamenting.
A soldier flung off his helmet to weep.

Images of the dead cat were streamed across the world.
The world gaped.
The world marched.
The world bought a mouse toy.

The dead cat became an icon.
Spray paint the image of the dead cat.
Deface the image of the dead cat.
Lock up everyone who shares dodgy memes about #thedeadcat.

The dead cat became a conspiracy.
The dead cat never existed at all.
It was really a dead dog.
A flea-infested dirty dog.
Though the ears belonged to a moose.
Or a sloth. Or a champagne ferret.

The dead cat became a legend.
Some glimpsed the dead cat scampering west, tail tall, cock-a-hoop.
Was this a resurrection?
Could we all look forward to the return of the dead cat?
The sky flashed red, purple and white.
Some fell on their knees to beg forgiveness of the dead cat.
Recite the holy meows of the dead cat.
Drown its heresy in a binbag weighed down with bricks.

Aren’t cats always selfish, vicious renders of flesh?
Aren’t ‘the cats’ plotting to kill us all?
Can you spot the seven signs your cat is part of a sleeper cell?
They say cats purr when they die.
How deeply had the dead cat purred in defiance?
People woke screaming with loud phantom purrs vibrating their skulls.

ChatGPT was fed every fishy scrap about the dead cat
and told to reveal the:

‘one,’ ‘single,’ ‘sole,’ ‘only,’ ‘simple,’ ‘lone,’ ‘stark,’ ‘final,’
‘indisputable,’ ‘imperishable,’ ‘inescapable,’ ‘and,’
‘absolutely,’ ‘categorical,’ ‘truth,’ ‘about,’ ‘the,’ ‘dead,’ ‘cat,’

but began to yowl for tuna at five in the morning,
skulk in the garage
and claw next door’s tabby.

CatGPT told humanity that ‘cat’ is an anagram of ‘act,’
and legged it over the garden wall.

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Dead Cat Poetry Prize - winners and commendees, 2025

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Lightfoot Treadwell’s work has appeared in many leading journals, including The Calico Review, First Meow, The Litter Tray, Midnight Catawaul, The Ethical Mouser and Reclaiming Hisstories.

Lightfoot Treadwell generously reinvested his second prize sum of £50 back into the Dead Cat Poetry Prize Fund.