Poem: Thinking
I am inspecting him with a fine-tooth comb.
Twilight is upon me,
my room is dark.
The carpet of night covers my bed.

I am a cat tonight as I touch him.
In the black, he's hidden.
My paws fondle his lips.
He continues to sleep, unaware.

I am a detective tonight when I stare at him.
Magnifying glass hovers,
his body is so smooth.
I nuzzle him softly and he sleeps.

I am recording the president this evening.
I understand him.
Everything he says.
I write it all down in my head.

I am a doctor tonight as I touch him.
His joints are fine,
and his limbs perfect.
He is a very good patient.

I am an art lover tonight when I look at him.
His face is perfectly done.
Body sculpted wonderfully.
Fit for me to photograph, Adonis.

I sit up on my bed tonight.
He is not here.
I was only scrutinizing him.
I have decided he is perfect.


Dream.

(written 8 Dec 2001)