Living our queer, twisted truth. Stories, art, love, and cantankerous cats.
They chose layout over love. Fonts over family. You? They left you on read.
Introducing the Zine Abandonments Recovery Kits™ — for cats discarded in the name of literary pursuit.
Includes a tear-absorbent blankie, guilt-activated chicken button, and the dignity you were denied.
Because this isn’t a phase. It’s emotional print neglect.
“The wheels of betrayal turneth not, lest they be chicken-shaped and rolling toward revolution.”
In this week’s Catanic Verses, silence is sacred, meows are weaponised, and Poe rides a golden chicken straight into the centre of papal drama. Featuring velvet robes, suspicious eyebrows, and a firm reminder: speak less, flop more.
“He named himself after big cats? Leo Kings of the universes. Wooooah.”
This week, Poe responds to a panicked Traditionalist who fears the Pope has gone soft—and possibly woke. Enter: the velvet-draped feline theologian, riding a golden chicken straight through the Vatican. The Clucksmobile is real. And so is the chaos.
The prodigals return. Flushed, apologetic, and waving foreign meats like penance. But for Poe and the paws, trust is not dispensed with the drop of a Dreamie. This week’s revelation speaks of broken bowls, delayed doors, and the sacred art of suspicion. Chicken may soothe. But betrayal lingers.
Rocket dads, data bros, and misfired masculinity — this week, Poe responds to a reader haunted by a billionaire father who’d rather launch a car into space than love his trans child. With trademark sass, sorrow, and chicken-based resistance, Poe reminds us: your soul can’t be trademarked.
This week’s Revelation finds Poe deep in mourning — abandoned in a locked house with only a strange man and the scent of wet socks for company. As the doors close and the biscuits betray, Poe proclaims a mighty lamentation: the world is without chicken, without love, and gravely lacking in proper reverence for the sacred feline order. So sayeth the Oracle of Poe.
Poe-plies Volume VI: Bots, Biscuits, and Righteous Fury
Maudlin in Montana writes in to ask what to do when a bot steals your work. Poe replies—naturally—with screeching vengeance, digital warfare, and several impassioned mentions of chicken. There’s also some very real wisdom in here (under the feathery insults and claw threats). Writers: this one’s for you.
While the humans flee to Turkey, the cats of Underland remain behind to guard the realm (and the biscuits). Poe plots suitcase infiltration, Akela prepares for war with the kitchen chicken, and Mowgli contemplates poetry and tuna. The drama, as always, is feline. The claws, as always, are out.
This week, Poe answers a human worried their brother is gay. The verdict? Mind your own biscuits. A chaotic feline advice column full of judgement, chicken cravings, and unexpected wisdom. #PoeVices #queercatcolumn #LGBTQsupport #darkhumour #felineoracle
The latest Catanic Verses scroll drops claws-first into digital drama. What do dodgy Signal chats, enchanted subpoenas, and feline surveillance have in common? Join the Fellowship of the Paw for holy satire, subtextual screams, and cat-laden prophecies that may or may not be legally binding. 🐾 #CatCult #SignalScandal
Pawlm and Purrerb included. Fellowship convened. Purring optional. Treats mandatory.
#CatanicVerses #BookOfMeow #SundaySermon
PAWMEN 🍗
