Sunday, March 3, 2019
ââ¬ÅFebruaryââ¬Â by Margaret Atwood Essay
Poet describes the activities of February and further narrates the tussle amidst his cat and a tomcat. Paraphrase Winter is a time to wipe out pork and watch hockey. The black cat with yellow eyes leaps everyplace on my bed each morning and reaches to my head. In this way, he notifies me whether I am a croak or dead. While taking his breath that smells equal burped-up meat and decaying stuffy sofas and buzzing like washboard, he inhabits on my chest.In the meanwhile, another tomcat who is not so sturdy is seen squirting at the entrance and declaring war. It is all a matter of gender or worldly concern that will ultimately ruin us sooner or later. get the hang of these tomcats should cut the male sex organs of these cats. If we human beings are likewise wise, we should do the same or like sharks, should eat our children but its nerve that kills human. Tomcat repeatedly shouts and famine shrinks lying on the bed and struggle quilt.Temperature decreases to minus 30 and smoke ve nts out of chimney to provide warmth. February is a month of dejection (with a skewered heart in the centre. ) I account of terrible thoughts, desire for potato chips with speckled vinegar. Cat, these thoughts are enough for your purring and for your lilliputian bumhole. Get out of my face. You are essentially life phenomenon, so you live on a little hope. Throw away death. Commemorate boost. invention spring out of it (February)
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