Here come our two cats for my breakfast,
but I am not eating, rather looking down,
making the pen move with familiar loops
and a certain steady slide across the page.
Cats bore easily when they see that ink smears
and doesn’t taste a thing like chicken. So
the leader pushes her nose into an African violet,
which I can’t allow. Given her way, she will destroy
leaves and get soil all over the table, along with
pretty purple flowers. I pluck her from the pot,
but not before a clump of dirt hits the table
and she finds it didn’t taste a thing like turkey,
which was what she had on her little kitty brain.
Off the two go to explore the kitchen, tails entwined,
leaving me in solitude with nothing more than
steam rising from the electric facility at the end
of Korean War Veterans Bridge and downtown
Nashville waking to another day of rain.
Now I hear the cats discussing how bacon is cured
and the virtue of Costco’s brand, Kirkland,
fully cooked, naturally wood smoked, thick cut,
microwaveable, pre-sliced, ready in a mere 55 seconds,
reminding me we can have bacon for breakfast.
P.S. and by the way, I cook one piece for each cat.