Tonight I come home after words with friends beer and wine for a fool with things to say. Home to this zoo of books and three kittens, this one crawling up my pantsleg and that one into the trash. For something important, eat a fig drink milk souring in the fridge and the other cat has diarrhea. It’d make me sigh if I loved them less a few curses there who cares to help me change, my mind. Alone in it then with the little ones who cry and eat and jump on the couch with me, purring.
13 June 1974