Game 18

CHI 101               PHX 103

I used to live in a big wood house
With big glass windows
And an enormous front porch.

Great place to catch birds--
Stunned from glass
Reflecting sky.

My cat Kali,
Lazy and psychotic,
Would sleep in the sun
And wait.

Crocodile patience.

Sipping coffee
At the kitchen table,
behind sheets of glass
But lazy in the same sun,

I, too, would hear the
Thump
Of impact.

This would happen
Once a week,
Or so.

Kali walked up
With a weird swagger--
A different kind of flick in her tail.

Some sort of torturer’s tick.

She wanted to play with her victim--

Grabbing the limp body
With her teeth
And throwing it into the air.

Leaping after it with
Clashing claws
And slamming back down.

Dribbling across the porch
Like a footballer on the pitch.

This would usually last about ten minutes
Before Kali would throw her new toy
Over the rail

And look around
Confused for a second
Before going back to sleep.

But every now and then,
Just when I was sure the game was over,
The bird would wake up.

And just like that,

Fly away.