Viscerally, As True As My Cat
written by: Mihaela Melnic
I dive straight into the core of my fellow poets’ rants
that are raw and leathery
like thousands of whips cracked
on the bare shoulders
of a monk or a nun that has sinned.
I belong in their lines.
I’m the feminine and masculine part of their minds
when they write about the same things that afflict me.
They think they understand what’s going on here, and vice versa
so, I sink comfortably in the couch
with my innocent cat in my lap,
not knowing precisely
the state of my mental health
or of theirs
but I feel so good with them
crowded, swinging insanely, on the pupil dance floors of my eyes,
being mad at themselves
and raging at life;
I rage along,
beneath the serenity of my mask,
just as viscerally as them,
and we stumble a lot and even fall
but I like it when we get up and dust off our clothes
and each of us keeps doing what we know best to do.
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