TelAvivRE

Lucifer Sam

There is a cat at my window
I am still
ragdoll in its flooded mouth
arsonist in one sulfur eye
night in a silhouette
shadow without philosophy
syllable of jungle chill
be it alms seeker
spy
or courier
or smoke as a pirouette
all icicle and satin
black iris I see
blood beating its binary
pulsating lodestone
hanging from its ley line
like the lamp of an angler
when the sun is furthermost
and all gods are unbeknown
I am still
still
the cat sits at my window sill

The doctor is in a white coat
leaning over me, intrigued
white teeth gleaming
white skin shining
white light blinding
white needle priming
white eyes widening
white scalpel sliding
in white stomach lining
white gloves prying
open white siding
and I’m still lying
open and writhing.
The doctor is in a white coat
leaning over me
on this rack
he blocks the light
now he’s all black.

I’ll scale these branches over time
in rain or shine I’ll never stop
but
it doesn’t matter how high I climb
I know I’ll never reach the top

I think you’ll be
disappointed when I whisper
sweet nothings
in your ear.

Residents of New
Orleans gathered to wage
War on the World’s
Butterfly population.