kitty kat

Dear Hobo
on the orangest blankets you looked a bit
serpentine and calm as a straw
on the ground next to an
empty cup.
Ears twisted in sharp spots
and eyes like limes shooting citrus
rays. He says it's convenient for me, I don't
know what he means. He gets angry because
I get insulted. You must think we're both
the strangest of animals. No jungle bar room
could hold our howls in,
no drink could calm our street wise nerves
with a book I am convenient, with a book
I am censoring the things he'd like to say to me.
And when it's still light out at 5:34 I think you
Hobo will curl up some more, and maybe catch the last
bird that flies by the window
before the blinds shut down
and I try to make sense of the hurt in my mind.
It's always harder to explain it to someone who
is very close to you. It comes in waves and has all sorts
of debris and oil on the top that makes it hard to see.

--by panders, US, 10/12/2006