did you know our cats are imaginary?
dogs too. and indians,
cowboys, unicorns.

what they have in common: we make them
into pets.  we negate their potential
to be real and dangerous and complicated. 

for example, it was no lolcat in the corner of the porch,
arching her back and openmouthed snarling
at me when I revealed the kittens next to her

by pulling back the cardboard that covered
the corner where the white cabinet provided
her birthing place and shelter.   

my overwhelming desire to reach out and cuddle
and pet them counteracted by the swiping claw
and the terrified look on the kittens’ faces, I resolved

to go inside and look up “feral cats” on the Web
and found a lot that made a lot of sense. so much more real
on the screen than in the corner.  

that’s how I learn
everything I need to tame the wilderness.  
to skin the unicorn.

host the cowboys.  
leash the dog.  gentle the
cats.  be the right kind of indian.   

Did a ripple in air or ether
give up some secret just now
when your head was turned
from the rest of the room?

It seems that you are different
than when you last were engaged with us
here at this terribly good party, as if you were now 
less one of us than before.

Did something happen?  Some hint of
a better existence, or at least
of how empty this one is?  Something
for an artist to chase and capture —

you used to paint, didn’t you?