We loved you
Pumpkin pie

And you
Bahzie boy

My bridge to the
Equine kingdom

Mitten, you made
My wife like cats

Begins a tragedy of three
A tale of other kitties

Stanley wandered too far
A tragedy of traffic

Babad not as far…
Both waited for us

No one wants to die alone
But still, we’ve been blessed

Goldie, I’m glad
You loved me

Little dog with
A heart too big

Thank you, Sue
For trusting us with Trudy

What a lucky man I am
To garner such love and trust

And of course, biggie guy,
He who once was named Hunter:

Gunther.
(Inset sadness here)

Chessy taught responsibility
With insulin shots at 6 & 6

Tristan y Isolde
(Stanley and Zolda)

Operatic lives lived
As comedy/tragedy

And, et-hem; yes
Even you, Ms. Berry

Past denizens
Of Chateau Flobo

Let’s not not leave out
The current cohorts:

Free spirit, wild child
Lucky Ducky

Biggie boy found you
You adopted us

Ms. Black-in-the-box
Moved herself in

And Fred—well,
Fred is just being Fred

They all found us
Not the other way around

From a big family,
We’ve loved/love a big family

.         Nien Nien Nien        .


Chessy, full stretch warming her
hide after a bout of barking in
woods, chasing auld deer’s.

Zamba, the black feline purred,
a tidal millpond gazed a glazed
look at our cumulus congestus.

Tragarriff ? is not a question but
a place, by the sea, where water
lodged.

Suddenly a sonic boom down
the cornucopia tube plumes of
puffed carbon monoxide smoke.

The German Shepherd leapt from
her haunches," Nein Nein Nein" my
call to Caron, "Zamba curtain crawls".

Rumbling turns to thunder tongs to
tongues intertwine, retrieving coals,
dousing dancing flames combine.

Persian rug pulled as a table cloth
from under legs, wrapped like a bra
tightly around the chimney breast.

Suffocating the smokestack, sirens
of Bantry Braying, echoing high lows
between opes of mountain passes.

Covid masks, black smoke, watery
eyes, blue lights flashing, Red Adare
reincarnated, his posse arrives.

constant destruction,
tearing down foundations,
eventually leads to beauty.

the crumble is rough
but its not ******* ugly.
it’s, eye opening?
it ***** and rips apart your walls,
but it leads to resuscitation and
a new foundation

the classic saying,
"sometimes you have to lose everything to find a new you, maybe the real you, acknowledge the pushed away truths,
and finally figure out what to do–“
-or something along that frame ,
its chessy as hell but
its sure as hell true,

constant destruction,
crumbling foundations,
i went through it too,
not exactly like you
but i can ******* see your point of view,
we went through a lot
yeah itll never be the same as before
don’t retrace your  steps, look ahead and push through, see the future,
don’t focus on regrets
forgive the past,
live, now

thats really all that you can do
value who you are
who belongs to you will come to you
what you are searching for,
whatever it may be,
will find you

breathe through the tension