if a harness is keeping
this cat on the ground,
I ask myself
what she
could have done
to deserve.
moistening suitcases
and tasting a freckle,
I stop to marvel
at another
celebrated
custard-whipped dictator.
humming as her mustache
clips itself,
while a child
has delighted in
pinching her
floured neck.
tiptoeing ’round to find
that ammonia’s not like bleach.
*Cat No. 29 of the 500 Cats Project
collateral,
co-cat-purr-all.
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
I am Bagheera
watching you stumble
out of a dreary meeting
at corporate headquarters
You eye me with that gleam
a toddler’s oblivion
my coat wields deception
and you fall for my wiles
I amble along the jagged brush
the thistles and trees –
foliage of a metropolitan jungle
that never really was
So abruptly, you arrive
pencil-skirted girl
your makeshift Nikon
your homage to Apple
She’s squealing and kneeling
I’m happy to oblige
happy to stop, stand still
for the easily amused
And she speaks of me like some lost fossil
but this isn’t Iriomote Island, my love
she speaks as of worshiping a stone-carved panther
stone-cold phantom, I assure you, I am
*Cat No. 5 of the 500 Cats Project
Crumpled Paper Cranes 