Cat’s Claw 

     In the morning she looked at her broken bike frame,

through her arms up over her head and beat feet to the cafe “Khave.”

She found herself with a crush on the girl behind the counter, head covered in curls.

Later she’d wonder if the girl ever saw her tribute “Cat’s Claw “ on the bathroom wall.

If this ship goes down and the band plays on, I long to be part of the ensemble.

Privileged are the few, whom sometime this life get to feast their hungry eyes on you.

 

I would wrap your legs in peels of lace aplenty and the southern breeze reveal contours

sublime. Eastern European melodies would play in cafes to score our vivacious lives.

A circus of muses would play in circle to a carousel of clowns and mimes.

Cat’s Claw tops the rusty Iron. Wish you’d hang on me that way sometime.