I fold my reality like origami, each day a shape to suit my whim. A dog when I feel like begging. A horse when I want to trot away. A pot to brew up some potion. A penguin when I feel cold and I stand on my egg all day. I can bend and flex, change my image, but in the end I am truly flat and lifeless, a construct of imagination, but soulless and boring. Reality cannot be my creation made in the accordion of my mind. Truth and breath come like the wind and I need to let them change direction and change me, too.
Turn right both ways.
Here Kitty kitty
Litter training the lynx seems like a good idea
until it is accomplished
and all concerned are less for the accomplishment.
Domesticity is a transparent cage,
which has a presence felt by all
whether loved or hated.
The air is changed and the cat stifles,
everyone is safer, so it is said,
but what are we safer from?
And what is a broken lynx,
certainly not a house cat?