firecat

100poems

a goldstone hotei,
bronze ganesha (with little bell inside),
and pink kitten stuffed with polystyrene pellets
contemplate a green dairy case, engorged
with magazines, binders, and old calendars
that dream of becoming collage projects.
"do you suppose she'll ever get rid of that?"
they ask.
each guards a secret fear, unspoken:
"or will i be the first to wind up in the trash?"