I hear doors slam and know odds are I glue door
slams to my fate. Cats purr, wild cats who eat trash
sleep in chairs on my porch, cats half tame now know
I won’t harm them, know that I feed them, might let
me touch them one day but not the next, hub in
my shed. My grass grows long, not whacked by my shed.
Our king is kind if it’s me, if I like you like me
and am not wrong, what more can I bid you won’t
kill me in my sleep or me you? Love will eat
scraps and call it love. This is not bad, this is
best we do when we don’t want to, just like now.
