I still get a kick from doing
my shoelaces up,
of threading them through the holes
of making sure that one end
is the same length as the other.
You don’t get tired of these things.
Rubik’s Cube for simpletons.
The world is a cat.
It knocks things over
that should be left standing.
It turns on you with tooth and claw
even when you are affectionate
towards it.
It draws blood,
pounces with unbridled savagery
on the weak and defenceless.
It has no shame, remorse.
When have you seen it
hang its head?
Yet, the world can surprise you
with sudden turns of affection
as it rubs against you
and purrs.
*
I can’t believe
some days
that I’ve landed
on my feet.
I have to pinch
myself.
My monasticism
was brief
Travel lightly, Matt said during a session of morning meditation
and though I knew what he meant — shedding one’s addictions,
regrets, anger, all the pettiness that weighs us down,
I couldn’t help but applying it to food, how it’s easier to move
with grace and agility with less weight, foregoing that plate of chips,
that second glass of wine with steak and even a smaller portion
of eye fillet, but surely a slice of that yummy Orange Baby Cake
after gym wouldn’t hurt
I felt cheated
by the short story writer
whose piece
morphed
into a
sociopolitical tract
on racism
for page after phlegmatic page
leaving the characters fumbling
in the dark
in search of a plot —
and me, with them
like a kangaroo, not putting a foot wrong.
Some say I’m flippant, a little shallow
but I’m mellow yellow, baby. quirky as a quark
and when I’m hopping mad, I bark.
*pic courtesy of wikipedia
Something the photographer said about animals.
We are much more unpredictable to them
than they are to us.
We could shoot them, pet them,
kick them up the butt, out the door.
Perhaps that’s why this rescue cat eyes me
suspiciously,
sleeps with one eye open
flinches when another male approaches.
John Malone 