Jefferson Carter: Cat & Transient

The homeless guy who lowers himself 

down beside me on the bench

outside the Co-op?  He’s generic,

more dirt than human, his stink 

killing my appetite for the bowl

of organic jackfruit on my lap.  I stand, 

ashamed, give him a dollar & walk away

after dumping the paper bowl

into a trashcan advertising the pleasures

of our historic shopping district.

.
I swore I’d stop writing about liberal guilt

& about cats too, but I must confess

last night, I groomed our little black cat

with my tongue & watched her perpetually

startled gold eyes widen as I licked her neck

& then her belly, inhaling her scent.

In Japan, childless couples can rent 

a cat by the hour to sniff its belly, which

smells like the crown of a baby’s head.

First published in Birkenstock Blues (Presa Press)