Friday, July 18, 2014


a cat on its haunches
sits quiet and sweet
what are the chances
a tail curls in defeat
leaves a bird’s nest un-looted
when the hungry line up
on a street paved with patience
in the slow build up
to ignorant resistance
great whites have been gathering
on everyman’s shore
what food there is
has a possible score
and the music plays on
while sharks
keep on hammering
and I in my wet suit
and you in your poem
shall we leave the room empty
or dive for the song
who will break bread
on a natural farm
who will learn to defend
nature’s loss with alarm
I am old and disgusted
I am young and in place
I am ready and willing
I am drunk with disgrace
I have fallen not broken
into endless repast
this season ain’t over
this cat learns real fast.

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