Fat cat

< Consume | Three Chimes of Doom >

I'm not bothered by how important you say you are,
and even if my eyes moved (as those of some of my more expensive breathren do)
instead of just my up-stretched hand rocking to and fro,
I would not choose to watch you dipping small bits of expertly cut fish
that you haltingly pretend to pronounce.

The lady who put me on my shelf
as if it watch over fumbling chopstickery
explains that I bring good luck, but when
dinner is over and she goes home I know that much like you, her luck comes
from a flat screen television upon the wall

while I sit here still waving into the dark from my shelf,
not watching the neon open sign, not caring much about anything,
throwing unused lck onto the empty stools
like the old man forever catching the same coi
in the jade bonsai on the next shelf over,

until finally (with a pop) I let out the magic smoke
or my battery simply runs down
and I am still.

Saturday, February 18. 2006
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