Sigourney was a saltwater princess
born from a flash flood;
a stray cat I found
stuck between the boards
of a wooden fence.

Her cries mimicked
the local 6 o'clock siren
with a backdrop
of toe beans fettering
on a park sidewalk.

I mirrored the way
her left paw traced
the cracks of the cement,
(fast paced, sloppily),
then ushered her out
using a combination of
strength and saliva.

"It's okay,
you won't get wet,"
I whispered
as my left hand struggled
getting out a plastic bag.

Carefully,
with precision,
Sigourney was plopped
backwards into
torn up plastic
marked
Have A Nice Day!

Alone we trudged
through flooded baseball fields
and gazebos
to cross the highway.

"Do you want
to go home?
Do you have
a home?"

I took a shortcut through
the Taco Bell drive-thru,
cars honking,
claws breaking through
malleable material.
cotton, skin, etc.

Sigourney said nothing.

"Good,
because I don't know
if I want to."

Tucked into a bag tucked into a jacket,
we headed westward
as far as we could,
before a cop approached
a teen at midnight
technically committing
a catnapping.