DJ Gaskin


      Poetry


Cat's Eye View
          evening of September 11th


              She
doesn’t know
the bright flames
and loud eruptions
are anything
but dazzling colors
and captivating
sounds for her
to take swipes at
from her safe
shelf in the cabinet
above. 
              She can’t
comprehend
the consuming
chatter of the men
and women inside
the box whose dark faces
flicker between the
clamor. 
              She, in her
sweet nescience,
doesn’t get
that my yowling
is different from
hers, that it isn’t
just a thorn
in my paw or hunger
for something
just out of
reach now. 

 




© 2002 DJ Gaskin