Five Poems

The cats are the same color
As 4am, I learn nightly

The moon stares longingly

And I’m not sure
What to do about it

I can’t stop thinking
And it’s not cool

God forbid
A poem tell me what to do

The smog over the mill where
They press our tissues
Is blue—

One tall, thin cloud
Blown apart, like a poem

And it’s dangerous work
To make something so soft

A friend of a friend
Lost a thumb

And a friend of a friend of a friend
Died in a fire

These words are such a burden

Something in the air
Or something missing

Jack says to drop his name
At the flooring outlet
But they just stare…

And at Jiffy Lube, the Sufi mystic Saadi
Had me believing in a different world—

A world without flooring outlets

Then it’s the coldest day of the year
Three times in one week

All the neighbors
Seem to hate their dogs

And hate each other’s dogs too

Except for one woman
Who is our State Senator

The cats curl up
Like two commas

And watch a fly
Fly across the room

Only to walk up the wall

Where it stops
And won’t move

For five months