Tag Archives: cat

One shot



I have developed a crush on my veterinarian, the most useful romance I will never have. Still, I learn her language: I speak inflammatory bowel disease, chronic pancreatitis, allergic sensitivity, idiopathic origins, unpredictable progressions. This one will end where it starts, will leave me doting on the old cat purring in my lap as I […]


For what must I answer, after? Will the small spirits of mice accuse me from the ghost of my cat’s mouth? Will the kind words I did not speak assemble, invert, indict? What of ingratitude, of wasted love? How will they prosecute me? It’s all true:  every harm I allowed, returned, initiated. What shall I […]


Snow falls all night as I lie beneath down only the cat against my flank, her weighted contentment, making me necessary in the oriented world. Vertigo again —  reeling adrift —  meclizine in the dark and waiting, still, on the gradual repair of the rotting rudder. The aging body comes round slowly if at all […]

Ever a great rumble

in the heaven of cats teeming with clever but catchable mice, sounding with birdsong to prick sharp velvet ears. The satisfying flesh of captured things; shrimp and fish and chicken and acres of sand yielding softly to fastidious paws. Quilted across the endless ether patches of sun, and all over creation makeshift toys scattered: string […]

The province of survivors

I’ve yet to make peace with the truth of all flesh that long endures: No sooner do we finish growing up than we start to break down. In the end, we are joined with all creation in the act of dying, the most solitary task of an often lonely life. In the meantime, we are separated by little more than how we arrive at that end: how long it takes, what road we travel, what contagion or calamity distinguishes our finish.