I write messages and wait to see if they're seen. Sometimes I find amusing cat videos, like the one where a calico and a ragdoll walk through a hallway lined 3-, then 4-, then 5-deep with paper towel cardboard cores; an unseen hand orchestrates the obstacle course. They knock them down, and just keep going. If there were a caption, it would be You got nothin' on me. I wish I had their aplomb if not their equanimity—but in the absence of any response, I droop and distend in a holding cage of sadness, wear the carpet down in a waiting room for the host to let me in.
Purveyors of fine poetry since 2003.
