December 3, 2012

poem 440 of a poem a day for 2012

superhero vaudevillian acts of fur, claws and causal hunger

in the quiet
of a thousand smells
your question comes
is life just bleeding
finding worth
last drop serenades
from a soul
with a hole
near where a heart
used to be

perhaps, said the rabbit
to the cat
in a hidden crouch
perhaps, you may want
to move to the light a bit
if only to enhance
the drama of our shadowy
theater game
predator and prey
you may say nothing
but the shudder fever
of my not seeing
the direction
you are coming from
to eat me
spills something
even blindness
can taste

I have no
telephone booths
to duck into
no bat cave
or magic hammers
of Thor
there is only
the small garden shed
I am cornered in
with you, cat
somewhere near the door
waiting on your cue
just off stage


1 comment:

  1. Wow! Talk about taking you right into a moment, right into the character; very full of life!