Gift

you know
the man in the back moved out
couldn’t get his rent
so I inherited this
huge old cat
big as an average dog
mean
yellow eyes
old and furiously strong
when he strikes with one of those
paws
the walls shake
his name is “Butch” and he
doesn’t play around
he’s cranky
has his own set ideas
learned from somewhere
long ago.
he gets on the trip
which is his
sometimes he gets
gone
I’ll be petting him
and then he’ll have me
my hand trapped in his
gut
the teeth will incise into
the top part of my hand
And holding me there
like that
he’ll rip the back of
my wrists
with his two rear paws
with the claws
fully extended…
I leave my hand there
Until he’s finished
then I
lift it away
rivulets of blood
seep…he just
looks at me.

I’ll send him to you
in a whole natural almond
crate
I’ll cut holes so he can
breathe

but beware when you pry off
the lid

I’ll send him to you
just in time
via Air Express

upon that crate on
National Poetry Day