Bird with Head Torn Off

On the great-room rug
             on the moonlit island where 
                           silverware incubates

on your chest when you wake 
             a gift a regift

it arrives with the fanfare
             of a New Orleans street band 
             a cat’s heralding trumpet
                           in a key of adoration

you visited that city
             with Michael your best friend 
                           and today you will miss 
                           his wedding

you biked the Garden
             District past Trent Reznor’s 
             mansion booked the ghost tour
                           because you believe

every body shows its seams 
             Michael’s childhood cats
                           were Sparkle and Clover

Clover trailed a possum
             into a deep den of years
                           running slipshod over 
                           shrapnel rocks

you wished her better
             wish to be with him
             as the band musters in the entry

this hour is an animal
             torn apart
                           a time for dreams of a ghost town 
                                        of 1990

here is Clover
             not carved by owls 
             Lisa Loeb on the stereo
                           all the friends you left in Toledo 
                           Omaha carried back to you
                                        in the maw of wakefulness

while outside the dream 
             cat paws
             to say behold
                           what I bring back my love

what you lost
             I would bear for years
                           between my teeth.

Read more from Issue 19.1.