the one nearest

 

something is up with my cat

my cat sits in quiet ponder for afternoons at a time

eyes fixed on emptiness

furry brow furrowed

with vexed thoughts

and venemous entreaties

 

has sworn-off personal grooming

eating, sleeping, hunting, playing

suddenly responds to the name I call him by

so that he can then transparently deny

intentionally overshoots the edge of his litter box

while laughing

before welling up

 

sees his own mortality

sees his own impotent lack of control

sees the randomness of this alien world

and his accidental bookmark in it

 

decides it’s folly in going to the vet

would rather pay a visit to the chemical shed

wants me to unlock the gun cabinet

lays all night at the foot of the bed

drinking Remy and glaring

 

something occurring, I think

my cat [is having an existential crisis]

and, I know

I am his convenience