dead cats

(just a hastily drawn circle)


with cries of kittens ringing in my ears
(they are dying out there
behind a trash can or under a car
i can feel them dying in the cold)

cries like that of a newborn

funny that birth and death may echoe
each other so seriously

and i lay under blankets
with the sound shaking my heart
like a bell shakes after it is rung


with silence in my room
(he is not here to sniffle and
clear his throat and type while
my head on pillow thinks)

silence of an old movie

funny i am miming out the
actions of taking my like seriously

while the emptiness is banging against
this brass bell heart,
doing it’s best to remind me of what is missing.