late night
in the dead of summer
alone
with my sisters cat
she has gone
to California
big hopes
and bigger dreams
but left the cat
for me
and mother is gone
and father is sick
or crazy
or both
and the women
i love
or used to love
or never did
but should have
are gone
and that is hardest
for lonely nights
in the dead of summer
are best
cured with a cold drink
and a colder woman
all gone
and i am alone with
the cat
who jumps at every
sound
every shadow
i try to write
and hope to ease the loneliness
or the boredom
or the madness
stretching and shaping
within
but the words leave me
like everything else
and my thoughts are empty
as my glass on the stand
which falls and
clatters as i reach for
a drink
now even the cat
has gone