One morning spent
lying on bed, on back
cheap French wine
and American cheddar beside me
pulling subscription flyers
from New Yorkers and New Republics
steam heat raging in the pipes against my back.
Classical music — romantic on radio
Lush strings and distant brass.
Carhorns echo across midmorning sunlight
Leaving dopplered slug-trails of petulant anger.
Mists of morning’s dew mingle with the coffee-steam
Thinning out in butter-yellow sunlight.
Marmalade-cat likes me this morning —
wants head and ears scratched, bones rubbed,
soothing vibrations of intimate contact.