one day you will
be old enough
to understand and nod
at the sanctity of closed doors.

an accusation and a wild party
that you did not witness
or volunteer yourself to paint.

your eyes—wide
as these coastal steps
that receive your delight
when grandfathers drink black coffee

one on the curb, rough thumb
circling, hardy compass
directing your saturated interest.

one day you will
be old enough
to realize and accept
the minority indifferent to milk and honey.

Cat No. 56 of the 500 Cats Project

She’s staring.


is this a partnership,
or contest performed
before dangling pompoms
and technicolor fish bait?

in any case,
most mornings
we do a pretty good job
sleeping without
passersby and their goldfish.

yesterday, got hit by goldfish.
really, the audacity
of pedestrian boys
and voyeuristic girls.


she’ll leave in just a second,
when the tea we’ve sipped
from heiresses’ wine glasses
calls for our worship, again.

*Cats No. 22 and 23 of the 500 Cats Project