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CAT WHISKERS |
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by Charles Carreon
Dirt tracks footstepped all over by the marching lines of beings Deer tracks with little piles of deer shit here and there like shrines Cow tracks, heavy trodden down hooved over sod dried flops of undigested fiber City streets, winding highways, stinking rivers Sewage treatment plants blowing plumes of flaming methane in the dark Poisonous clouds, grimy windows, callused hands, sore throats City window lights, shower stalls, bedrooms, televisions Bare spots on the carpet, holey linoleum Threadbare cuffs, blinking eyeball Grease spattered on the stove, dusty television screen Mildewed shower curtain, empty pill bottle, cat whiskers the television widow crochets a bedroom of lace the sun streams always over the coverlets Singularly lost amid the clutter of wires Branching bouquets of wandering flowers Through the mesh and the web of the undertaker puppeteer Invisible paths trace unheard-of symmetries Working into a dark nucleus Waiting as in Before the Yet To Come
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