“A summer storm, graces all of me. Highway war,sings silent poetry” To Shelia-smashing pumpkins
Ain’t nobody got time for that shit. Feelings, thoughts framed without “pithy”, without being tied to a melody, no smart ass shit, no punchline, no target.. No sir.. We are well past sincere expression, or I was just in a mood when I said that.Seems like we prefer little snips, eluding to feeling but never really showing it. Feelings are gross, I get it.
A severe storm rolled through and knocked out the power, tornado warnings and candles and battery powered devices only.
We’re old, the older ones might be the only ones to appreciate it. But still, the rain and wind, distant thunder, feels like I can hear every drop on every blade of grass.
It’s uh, it’s actually really nice. Maybe power companies should kill the power once a week for a few hours,there’s a novel idea. Kids would hate it.
I feed two stray cats, every day. One was clearly abandoned, definitely fixed, super affectionate, just a sweetheart of a creature.
The other is feral as fuck. He looks like Tom Waits lyrics come to life. Blind in one eye, lanky, completely distrusting. I named him “Stranger” and the name fits. After months, he’ll get close to me but not close enough to touch. I feed them both. And he’s put on weight, actually rolls over on his back sometimes, the sign of a happy animal.
That little fucker never knew love. He’s never been pet, he’s never been given any attention, he’s never been fed. All that mother-fucker knows is dumpster life and he doesn’t want to let anyone near him. Except for me. I’ll feed them both,little shits.One of them responds like a cat, sits beside me as I type, purring.
The other sits nearby. No contact, but just being in proximity is a testament to how living creatures can change.He’s not a bad guy. Just a raw deal. He also hunts, but I like to pretend that he sees my effort and is grateful.
dawn 