thesocialpoet

In the Ocean of the US Postal Service

In Poetry on March 11, 2014 at 11:58 am

Well I asked my cat

“What is it like

to be in love?”

 

And she looked at me

with saucer eyes

and folded over to

clean her butt.

 

I guess she doesn’t know either.

 

I am looking at pictures from the nineties.

I am wondering what you went as for Halloween.

 

I want to thank you for the constellations

because I think you are indirectly responsible.

 

I’ve written you a hundred letters

but I sent them to other people.

I don’t want you to read them

but I want them to be read.

 

I live on a diet of avocados and burgers and art.

And I hope you still enjoy the simplicity of a milkshake.

 

There is an itch on my back I can’t reach.

You are an itch on my back I can’t reach.

You are an itch.

 

I am looking for

a place to live but I would

rather live with you. Even though

 

you snore like my grandmother

just before she turned ninety and died.

 

I keep a postcard by my bed, stamped,

with your address,

ready to be mailed. It says

“I MISS YOU!”

 

And I think

I might mail it one of these days.

 

Karen Ann Frederick, USA

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