I Lick my Cat's Paws
I missed their warm edam scent.
I dug him up from the back garden
and brought him back to life.
When I am sure no one is listening
I sing to him.
I think he likes Alanis Morrisette
but he might just be humouring me.
When he's not there
I scream my loudest scream
not minding the neighbours
who think I am in pain.
I work up a deeper scream;
high pitched is not for me.
I watch people through windows late at night.
I knock on their glass to see their expressions
and run away.
Running exhilarates me;
I laugh to catch my breath.
Inside again, I put on my boxing gloves
and punch the walls.
I marvel at the dents in the plaster
knowing that later I will draw round them
and name each one as an imaginary island
in its own smashed sea.