we claim
not to be cats
yet our fur is up


uncoiling the snake
hidden strands of DNA


new diet
she only eats
the muffin tops


space station
blinks at me
I recite a  poem


1964 the summer of warped LPs


whiskers
in my gallery
cats


long before
it was complicated . . . 
it was complicated


finding all
the missing data
spam folder


her empty life
she collects vintage jars
to hold nothing


barman icing cocktails shrinkflation


2 am
the call that changed
our lives


rusty train tracks
nobody asks
where they go


breaking camp
in the lemongrass
field mice


chance of rain Silicon Valley in the cloud


lunch break
on city park bench
time with Buddha


designer shoes
she trips over her
privilege 


spilling their pain
so others know
survivors


upturned turtle
in the road
shell-shocked


pregnant . . . 
her dancing shoes
still fit


holding
my boots together
desert sand