Stray Cat Freedom
Early-evening weeping-saxophone stories
choke and cry and
(caught . stuck . cheap . forever . repeat)
rattle old, strict, aesthetic cages
like my haunting memories
strangle my aging brain’s tired breathing
into painful death rattle wheezing.
Early evening reverie
spills into a water filled wine glass:
I do not drink alone anymore;
I do not drink at all anymore.
caught . forever . stuck . free?
Is this the music
of my broken violin heart?
Is this the cost
of my stray cat freedom?