my sister,
the artist that she is,
named her cat
'dog biscuits'.

i was recovering

going through one of those weeks
when the ceiling
would spin
and the only thing
i could take in

was water.

and this stupid fucking cat
wouldnt stop purring.

i'm more of a dog person anyway.

they are so much more honest.
wearing their emotions on their sleeves;
while cats always seem
mischievous,

never trying to please.

i was taking a hot shower,
for about an hour,
trying to forget about life

altogether.

when the hot water ran out,
i grabbed a towel,

and dog biscuits opened the door.

we made eye contact.

it was one of those surreal
moments in time when you realize
that you really are nothing.

or maybe that you are something,
when you connect with a living being.
without words or language or body gestures

two organisms on the same plane,
connecting.
thinking, being, living
simultaneously, without
acknowledging each other's existence.

just basking in the dampness,
the dank
succulence
of the post-shower sogginess

that cleanses the soul.

and sobriety has
a eery
way of making you think beyond the box.

me and dog biscuits, we connected.
and it's funny because
whenever i go back home
he
finds his way to my lap,
looks me in the eyes,
and acknowledges my presence.

and I never really cared much for cats.

10/20/2008

Posted on 10/21/2008
Copyright © 2024 Frank Lee