I know he’s there, watching from above.
We can not speak;
him and I—but we do communicate.
as I sit here,
on a wooden bench,
staring at the worn-brick wall of a loft…
Does he understand me?
Does he even see me down here on this bench?
While he sits snug on his throne!
I see him—and in a minute I’m going to humiliate him with insults!
Then, he will hear me.
is a cat.
is a cat bed atop a window-sill;
and both need to be washed.
The window-sill is in the loft.
And the cat is staring at me.
I wish he’d stop.
His way of communicating is unpleasant,
and I don’t care if he understands me or not.