turn of the century

In the same way you had discovered the stove
was invisibly red-hot after the Kraft Dinner

delight, you too would find out that at the back fence
just above the dead-body hill where parliaments

convened, barefoot cats ambled through, feline
lightning lingering more than it should.

It reminded you of southern states, or their peaches
humming in the sunlight, falling to the mushy ground

and landing perfectly, subject to laws defined
by other governing bodies. Owls for instance

can only clutch what fits in their moonwax talons,
like when old women board busses near the mall

overflowing. To me, this revelation seemed mundane.
I kept fingering the piano, like a kitten

being softly grasped by a falcon, carried off
to feed and delight its naked nestlings.