my life in boxes.

my life cannot be summed up with one blog of terse statements and wry humor at the moment, but i feel the need to update so it is made clear that i am still breathing. so, until the dust settles and i live to tell the tale, i'm going to post a poem about one of my cats. i wrote it a couple of years ago. my cats are infallible creatures.

ode to an obese tabby

oh, wu-cat.
as i sit here in the wee hours, frantically trying
to map out the next 5 years of my life or so, nothing seems tangible
or consistent.
yet i know
that you will be here
on my arm, as i am trying to type
for at least the next 45 minutes.
do you know why this is, little wu?
why it is that, despite the fact
the constant tapping of the keyboard
the incessant tensing and relaxing of my right forearm beneath your furry folds
cannot be soothing or comfortable for you
you will stay here until i move you?
it is because you weigh 17 pounds.
yes! that’s right!
if you were a human infant
you would have been birthed by caesarean section.
actually, who knows if you would have been birthed at all.
with an in utero weight that astounding
you could’ve killed your mother
and yourself.
but thankfully, you are not a human infant.
you’re a tabby. a grown-ass man tabby.
your source of girth is from consumption of the souls of the weak
and the rest of kiki’s food
when she walks away
during meal times.

someday, my little gentleman
i will buy you a bowtie.