September

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September

 

Scritch of crickets

outside my window

 

When did that all start?

 

I’ve been busy

scratching mosquito

bites into wounds,

picking the scabs

 

Look at the ceiling,

water stained from the

upstairs bath!

 

How to soothe this

itchy masochism?

 

The salve is beyond my

skull-walled house, in the

cricket static of a

September dawn.

 

I must go out there!

My Black Cat

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My Black Cat

 

wants to climb on my lap

but I want him beside me

he has a strong odor

not clean and tidy

like most cats I’ve had

Some days I let him up

to scratch his face

His head smells like

the head of an animal

Found as a kitten

motherless

in an alley

he was never taught

the grooming trick

to lick his paw

wipe his head