sleeping cat

oh, I’m well aware of the calibre 

my writing is at, 

usually- 

shit. 

I suspect it will take 

some time

to cut through all the 

programming. 

all the so called

sanity. 

where the pulse 

blooms. 

beyond 

all.

beyond inspired. 

I know it’s in there, 

flowing. 

waiting. 

where the cat sleeps. 

where she 

sleeps, 

still on the couch 

as she tried to stay up 

to greet me. 

where the windows 

are dripping 

with dew. 

So, I must whirl. 

May my feet drag little. 

may the sun dance upon my cheek 

as I go.