the signs were all there
scratched sofa and feathered toys
beware of the cat
——
floating and leaving no trace
the signs were all there
scratched sofa and feathered toys
beware of the cat
——
the cat tried to come
between my wife’s hug and me
–lady or tiger?
in the white moonlight
the cat’s shadow leaps away
–but where is the cat?
—–
Don’t forget to check out Monster Masquerade.
this is the house of sleeping women
the house where women sleep
here, the women sleep in this house
except for when they wake
in the middle of the night
and they have to pee
or the cat makes it impossible to
get comfortable
or time is out of joint by five hours
and the morning is dark out the window
and the clocks are all liars
or the dog is licking
and his tags jangle
or every worry rides through their minds
like a chariot driven by achilles dragging hector
this house does not do a good job
tending to the sleeping
but what house does
the cat
sits at the glass door
not making a sound
just watching
moving only her head
as the hummingbirds
zoom in
and
out
of view
her ribs rise and
fall
and she watches the phoebes hop in the grass
and up into the limbs of the young avocado tree
sporting their little black mohawks
and she thinks–
if cats think like this–
if this door weren’t here…
if this glass weren’t between us…
drowsy and half-lidded
i push the cat away from
the phone
where the alarm clock shows
half an hour to go
but she is persistent
right up to the moment
the music starts playing
with her back arched
she presses her head into my palm
and purrs
in the middle of the kitchen
the cat sits
and watches while dinner is prepared
like the queen that she is
she only deigns to move her head
to track our movements
sometimes we address her
but usually we just
dance around where she
has planted herself
It’s the Friday Haiku!
in her warm bed
the black and white cat curls up
yin and yang
It’s Friday Haiku time!
Ready to write when
The cat on my lap jumps down
For a still, warm spot