Songs

Fierce as a bobcat’s spring
with start-up speeds of sixty miles per hour
I want a lover to sweep me off my feet
and slide me into the gutter
without the niceties of small-talk roses or champagne.
I mean business.
I want whiskey
I want to be swallowed whole,
I want tiles to spring off the walls
when we enter hotel rooms or afternoon apartments
I won’t pussy-foot around responsibility
“shoulds” and “oughts” are out for good.
And I don’t want to be a fat domestic cat
I want to be frantic,
yowls and growls to sound like the lion house
at feeding time
I don’t give a damn who hears,
I don’t give a damn!
no discreet eavesdroppers’ coughs can stop us
in our frenzy.
Let the voyeurs voient
and let the great cats come.