Cat House

I wrote this after an experience at the zoo (while visiting the big cats) where I couldn't help but observe a group of patrons and their children.  Comments that I overheard and actions that I witnessed have made their way into this piece...you'll have to guess where.  I'm not sure how I would categorize this work- not really a poem, not really a stream of consciousness...but not everything needs a label.

Cat House

Thick pane

transparent divider

separated from the uprights

their mechanical violence

where mothers drag young around

in four wheeled hybrids

smothering affection and acknowledgement

with sugary, silencing treats

Privacy

a lost soul wandering the deserts, jungles, plains 

captive to the stares

and pounding fists of the uprights

regal and royal you sun

on hand sown patches

hand blown boulders

vocalizing and terrorizing

the too young to understand

Red clay

a cool comfort,

lost on the straight ones

who see tile roofs

on Spanish Mod row mansions

in a suburban setting

in eastern Pennsylvania

Green

once for leaves that rustled

in gnarly branches of umbrella trees

and clusters of algae

flourishing on puddles and ponds

now lines pockets and palms

denoting status, stature, strength

Gold grasses

swaying in warm breezes

masking the voracious hunters

drowsy dreamers

has been spun into gold cards

paying for jewels and fibers

accessorizing the fronts put on by your audience

Deep pain

a limiting free-range pen

barricading

civilized from uncivilized

lost

in the misrepresentation of habitat

miscommunication of freedom

E.A. O’Connell