ODE TO THE FUCKING CAT

 

He demands the overtime 

due in his profession.

This Familiar role he 

Enacts without question.

This life he procures

For his own well-being.

This human he endures

To give life meaning.

 

we were created 

assigned to the future

tentative like furniture 

you haven’t yet bought

for rooms that are

silent as the drones 

you have 

yet to drop 

slowly for a better view

when there is a story

we hive like bees among chapters

parsing a tale to suit

we straggle at sentences

like the time I dressed naked in your poet’s shirt

drunk-filled with poems

running from doctrine

misunderstood among the hoi polloi

we grasp what matters

parsing commas for relief

reasons for all this shit

suspended in disbelief

every mistake belongs to everyone

my love for him

is all I know

I mask yet I won’t begin to follow

we were created by our own kind

children are born free

a lesson unlearned for eternity

my love for him

is drunken sometimes

I grasp what matters

I struggle for the rhyme

we are created in evolution

greet the bastards with crime

signal the masthead

bolt from the line

my love for him

I roll like the credits

over a serial killer film

And then like the lottery

it’s ours in the end

like ours in the friendship

like ours to re-friend

I grasp what matters

my love for him has been in tatters

struggling for the rhyme

created in evolution

greeting the bastards for every solution

memory loss the time-honored escape

Being here is what matters

Being here is the rake