She comes out of nowhere to stop me
doing that I came for.
her whims
destroy all scholarship
and poetry
and peace
in the form of a small
woodland rodent
lies mangled on the floor
she is neither an ordinary cat
nor an ordinary demon
I don't know what she is
but there is no place to hide
from her relentless lifestyle
not even in sleep
which is always a violent scene:
i've got fictional aureate poets
knifing each other
in my dreams
then standing on my chest
screaming for food
and love
