oil and water
across your pavement.
I hear it’s called “life.”
let all suspense
enamor the thoughts
rustling in struck trees.
I watched as your sister
grabbed the sugar
and poured it down like morning milk.
she opened the door
just after you left
and clutched her sides, engorged.
you carried the hose
pointed at an angle
while she told you the diet worked.
Cat No. 50 of the 500 Cats Project
they fought over fattened sardines.
a can rolling with summer’s shine.
they fought over an evening indoors.
and I was happy with a pigeon’s demise.
I understand how magnetized
a business card can be,
when squirrels nod and prettily boast
about nuts they gather, three times quick.
my friends, in actuality,
are roommates, smiling widely.
scheming, almost nightly.
glue in a bottle of your brother’s shampoo.
I blink at another brown recluse,
not exactly wishing a viral ill.
but if they scream a bit too loud,
I won’t hyperventilate a minute prolonged.
*Cat No. 26 of the 500 Cats Project