Invades our lungs and livers, pales our health.
That damned filth-begotten heat will soon choke
All frail life, reach the tipping point by stealth,
Kill us all in a manner quite baroque.

And here’s the unbelievable strange part—
It’s not auto exhaust, the threat of coal,
Smokestack emissions that will smother souls—
It’s ceaseless cow methane belches and farts.

We’ve got to rid the earth of gassy beasts—
Become vegan before we’re all deceased!
(6/14/14}

He didn’t come to eat
My heart grew sore.

Perhaps he went outside,
Was smashed to gore.

Then, mystically, he reappeared
To be adored.
(4/22/12)

But harried hist’ry mocks and whirls, disdains
Serenity, allowed her to agree,
Show love once more—that love that never wanes.
Thus, rescued Rosie joined the other three.

Alas, some dogs are plain persnickety.
And Rosie’s snarls reserved the couch for her.
Her mistress purchased fav’rite toys for each,
The rubber Kong that Rosie most preferred.

But “fair” means nothing! Rosie’s alpha paws
Quite soon possessed those rubber Kongs, all four!

Though—unregenerate—her acts appall;
Her greed’s the hist’ry of the world, writ small.
2/16/12

I watched my cat Sunshine engrossed in play,
Tossing a discarded two-inch yarn thread.
Then—pouncing upon it—untrammeled glee
His aura, as he pummeled, clawed it dead.

This for ten minutes (a human hour!)
Spent, bored, he left the thread, sipped a cool drink
Munched a bit of rich wet food, licked and scoured
His creamy fur, found a patch of sun, blinked,

Curled tight and slept with that firm abandon
Only animals possess! My envy,
Palpable (wringing my arthritic hands)—
I mused on evolution’s banditry.

Perhaps, it could have paused at somewhat less—
Left me fur-balled, and free of human stress?
                      (12/28/10)

Face it! Life’s a mash—dark, bright, sweet and sour.
Next week, Jim’s daughter arrives at his flat—
One bedroom, a bit tight—he’ll have to scour
The place to make it right. She brings three cats,

And a grandchild (two years plus). Family,
Of course, delights, expels flat emptiness
That swells the dark, provides epiphanies
That feed his life with spirited largess.

Still, three indoor cats trapped in that small space
Create experience that leads to drink.
Jim’s searching now to find the means (with grace)
To minimize cat excremental stink.

Scoop Away’s what you need: deodorant,
And clumping sand: a not unpleasant scent!
                       (5/25/10)

A loving god and immortality.
“We do not, cannot die—eternal soul’s
Our guarantee.” With such banality,
Their fervent, glistening eyes skyward roll!

Intelligent designers, I suppose,
Can make souls, sow their magisteria
With spirits—but why just man? Cannot crows,
Fleas, fish, asps, kangaroos, bacteria

Wallow in souls as well? And if not, why?
Only bipeds qualify? I decry
Rank injustice! Honor the mosquito,
Or, by god, subject all souls to veto!
(9/11/09)

Face it!
Foxes have endured bad reps
From Aesop on.
(Unattainable?
Screw it—
Along with all those other
Sour grapes.)

Although we’re told
Hen houses
Should not be guarded
By foxes,
I often wonder why.
Vulpes vulpes,
After all,
Is shrewd!
He’d husband those hens.

And, though it took twelve centuries
(A.D., of course)
For wily Reynard to emerge,
That trickster spent his time
Frustrating the hypocrites
He found himself among.
Not a bad legacy!

And if I were a woman,
I’d arch my back
To earn that sobriquet
Foxy!

Which brings us to Alan Fox,
Fox of foxes!
If he’s sometimes crazy,
He is, of course,
Crazy like a fox!

When I lamented economic blight,
Whimpered at diminishment,
Whined at darkness falling,
Sleeplessness,
That wise Fox reminded me

“We’ve been through this before”—
With mild barks,
Explained that wealth (however grand),
Is not human.
One dozen words
Healed all my raucous ills:
“It’s a nice day out—take a walk, meditate,
Write a poem.”
                (5/17/09)

Unprecedented!

Alert to frantic mews,
I toured the local alleys,
Anxious, desperate, teary.

Wednesday, my appetite,
Like Tripod, vanished,
While I searched
(Detritus of unforgiving wheels?),
Dreading what I’d find.

Well after dark,
He reappeared,
Staggered in,
Unhurt, but famished.

Astonishing!

Not only his miraculous return,
But my replenished appetite,
And dried eyes,
All in half a moment.

             II
One can, of course,
Avoid such psychic pain.

Find a modest room,
Windowless,
Painted pleasantly,
Equipped with water,
Toilet, small fridge,
Chair, table,
And a slot for food—
But no cats, birds, or dogs,
No phone or radio,
And certainly no TV.
There reside
(Immune to toxic moods
Anguish-spawned),
Serene.
              (4/13/09)

Flirtatious birds flit—
Stalking cats misunderstand—
Unrequited love!

Cats, obsessed with birds,
Fret, constrained by gravity—
Unfair: cats can’t fly!

Slit-eyed cats can climb
But birds read dark feline hearts—
Tempt—then flick away.

Birds would like to stay,
Play tag, mix it up—but can’t!
Cats play much too rough.
                     (3/10/09)