I am as one who stepped through a door
and forgotten the room he was in before,
who is surrounded by marvels, but can’t discern
a new splendor from glory that’s returned.
My friend is eternity, so familiar
that he likes my face pressed into his fur
You see it as blindness, and it may well be,
though I’ve forgotten what I used to see.
I am still Fred the cat,
I will give you that,
and I will give you all my lands,
from beneath the table to beneath the divan.
I never knew what they were for
and now I don’t even understand the floor,
but God, truth, the mystery behind all doubt,
these things I know and feel, and I mewl them out.
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That was the sound outside
Like a fox, crying,
You've heard that? Sounds like a
Human baby.
So, there are no animals
Anymore. Nothing.
They are all gone.
Outside is just wind on
Concrete.
But we still heard that sound.
Like a household pet that
Speaks his final madness
The wind on concrete
Like a fox
Crying.
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