On this dreary day
skies of stoic timberwolf
remind me of the smirks
across Boss’ mouth
when groups of four, six
sometimes two
sit before his desk, an office of oak
discussing how to prove
the dismal Collide
mapping out the screenplay
of “Who hit who”
the past two weeks, indeed,
are opportune for business
me in a suit
something about putting myself
on a loud, wide billboard
something about the value
of my nine lives
I’ll tell you that these joints
are sore from time to time
but not because some kid
chose to drag race on my street
and while they cry and pester
I know it has more to do
with the silliness of his retainer
So, while this consultation
drags on into the evening
I’ll sit outside, the watchdog
hoping to God, you’ve got a D.D.

*Cat No. 8 of the 500 Cats Project