Wednesday, June 14, 2017

The Dragon and The Cat

The Dragon speaks in the Language of the Making
No Cat anywhere ever gave anyone a straight answer.

Both have their 'good' and 'bad' reasons for how they speak.
Both have their 'good' and 'evil' reasons for how they act.

Both share a refusal for reduplication, but a penchant for eccentric cycles.
They swerve in and among legs and trees, hideaways and sheaves.

The Dragon spreads out his wings. He has never felt his wings so large as this.
The Cat spreads out her limbs. She has found that moment to nap before the hunt.

I could never redo something exactly the same way.
Even if I loved doing it, and wanted to recapture it,
it came out different, frunged, smudged, out of bounds
like a persistent nervous shaking beneath everything
or a kid jumbling the puzzle pieces to start over
all over my whole body and air around me
so that nothing ever happens
the way I liked it
but instead always ever happens
the way it is itself

They both get this about me,
but they both take advantage of it, too

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Is this wise?
Is this yours?
Is this love?

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