‘The New Yowler,’ ‘If books could kill’ and ‘Van Gogh’s left lobe’

THE NEW YOWLER

I didn’t know cats yowled

like castrated lions

until a new neighbor’s cat

moved into the house

across the street.

I can’t say what the cat

wants from us

but he yowls all day

and most of the night,

on the porch,

pacing back and forth

like a demented security

guard sharply searching

with a yowl for

a bark.

maybe the cat needs

to get laid

or

maybe he just

likes to yowl.

but he’s sending me crazy

and I think he knows.

last night he watched me

as I watched him.

he blinked twice

so did I

and then he yowled

once more for spite. 

IF BOOKS COULD KILL

these books

will

kill me

it’s happening

now

read dostoevsky

tolstoy, joyce

hemingway

woolf, faulkner

its too much

i was just trying

to have a

good time

now they

make it

homework

and say its

art 

VAN GOGH’S LEFT LOBE

I’m Van Gogh’s

left lobe,

red and dead.

there’s nothing

to hear

but I remember

things before

that were said

as I was cut

onto the bedroom

floor.

Gauguin with

cloth in hand

told us to use

it sometime

the rage began

and with regret

as he fled

our little

yellow house.

but now I just

hear Rachel

moaning in

sin

who gropes

for pennies

in a back-alley

of Arles

where there’s no

love except

for the gin.