DAY 26: Actresses, journalists and
intellectuals -- ghosts of fantasies
imagined women walking from room
to room how they move through one
another because they are ghosts
of the cotton-candy of a lazy mind.
I see myself in the wings, checking
my tie, I walk up to the lectern
the podium, counting my steps
lay down my notes and begin
to speak with casual opening
remarks before getting into the
tragic substance of death, death,
more death -- pain, weeping,
loss, forever -- now.
My cat is a real thing calling
my name, a living being to
remind me of heat, breathing
heartbeat, I lower my nose
into its neck to find comfort
in the feel and smell of warm
fur and the feedback the
reciprocation the answer to
all questions -- yes, you exist
in the real world, you are
whole, worthy and loved if
only by a fellow creature
who doesn't understand but
understands better than you.
