in grievous deity my cat
walks around
he walks around and around
with
electric tail and
push-button
eyes
he is
alive and
plush and
final as a plum tree
neither of us understands
cathedrals or
the man outside
watering his
lawn
if I were all the man
that he is
cat–
if there were men
like this
the world could
begin
he leaps up on the couch
and walks through
porticoes of my
admiration.
