The Oak Tree Down The Block

The oak tree down the block,
diseased and old,
sent the cat,
diseased and old,
on his way.
The tree called me down the street
to take a strip of its bark
back into the house,
so the spell of diseased and old
could be broken.
And then like that,
in a matter of weeks,
the cat whom I had
lived with and loved for
seventeen years
passed away.
Then one day,
eleven days after the cat had died,
the oak tree conveyed unto me
on an afternoon walk;
that those seventeen years
I’d spent living and loving the cat
had been given back to me,
that time doesn’t always work
the way humans think it does.

The Corn In Purgatory

It was 2 weeks ago
that I bought this jumbo bag of corn chips.

And in that time…

I’ve cried about 7 times,
most of them gently.
Once, sitting on my back porch,
looking into the woods,
still feeling an unending love for my cat Pinky
who passed away 5 years ago.

I had sex with 2 women and 1 man in that time.

Got drunk 6 times.

Wrote 5 poems and 2 songs and edited some fiction.

Started a new job that is mentally draining.

Threw a birthday party for Pinky’s brother, Blue.

Made 2 new good friends.

Saw a couple old friends I hadn’t seen since
the pandemic started.

Had crème brûlée for breakfast twice.

Ate pickles and olives for dinner once.

Had an upsetting conversation with my mother.

Continued falling in love with a woman
I’ve lusted, loved, and respected for 22 years.

And so I sit here on a Saturday morning
with a beer
and a near empty jumbo bag of corn chips
impressed these chips have lasted me this long
and seen me through so much.