A cat upon the lap, throaty purr rumbling.
What of it’s knowing
Of my anger.
And though I cried a year later, did this
A cat upon my lap, throaty purr rumbling.
But I asleep, drunken, heard
And when I coughed and spat up red, the cat
Still gazed as though unfazed
at hope lost.
A cat upon a lap, throaty purr rumbling.
And in my hand, revolver.
Cat sleeps on.