The phone interrupts me
While taking sleeping lessons
From my cat
It is an invitation to a stampede
Which I decline.
Distracted from Cat-mind
I transcribe some television commercials
For therapeutic purposes
Then spend a few minutes juggling feathers.
Down below the old woman
Is playing the vibraharp again
And singing her adaptation
Of Molly Bloom’s soliloquy.
I throw another economics book
On the fire
And regard the cat.
She has sealed herself off again
Impervious to modern art
Presidential campaigns
And free verse.
The phone is ringing
I am studying the cat
Catching on, perhaps,
But it is a long way back.