I think I’ll buy a boat.
That’s what everyone’s doing.
Or, what everyone wants to do
before the oceans dry.

There’s a clothesline snipped in two.
A mousetrap, feebly painted.
Garden gnomes are smiling.
Reality’s strangers to travel.

Do you believe in peace,
and that cyan flowerpots
can be mended,
courtesy of homemade glue?

I do,
while you may doubt.
Still placing a pillow in the farthest corner
where I’ll consent to dream.

*Cat No. 30 of the 500 Cats Project

Friendly Sneezes


I have a voice
a smooth’d timbre
when those who call out,
cough up an itch
that mountain cedar

and without one “sorry”

demands to see,

But as for myself,
softened is trust
I hope you’ve secured
in a frayed old purse
respective to all allergies

brewing regret

Perhaps, it is best
that we look, and not touch.


*Cat No. 20 of the 500 Cats Project

Miss Ottava Rima

shortly morning came to ever daring Patch
while babies mewed in circles, purely in cult.
skipping ‘cross blackened roads, tugging on my sash
apron brims with paper, food for the adult.
I rummage through my bag, reading of the clash
eggs now cracked on solid ground, meat for insult.
Patch looks over shoulders, asking who will creep –
Dandelion summers, when all oversleep

*Cat No. 10 of the 500 Cats Project