After 18 years,
and losing his hearing,
my cat became a narcissist.
But seriously, what else
could a deaf, aging cat
with irritable bowels
and lymphoma do
but post photos of himself
next to books by Camus?
He blamed me of course.
Said it was too much
time spent around confessional
poets. And Facebook, such
a pretty, pretty pond.
And so you do your dance, and leave me outside the ball-room, waiting in the cold.
You have no idea how much you have messed
with the wrong poet in the wrong neighborhood. North Beach.
Gregory Corso's ghost still runs this shit.
Not the restaurants but the cracks
in the pavement that words birth into existence,
which I can and will shred at any time.
Be nice to poets. Be very nice to poets.
You cannot exist without poetry.
You do not exist without words, without poets.
Society will always cast you in one role.
Thus reveal yourself carefully and tenderly.
Poets have big mouths and even larger words.
They allow you to exist
and create you.
Poets put a spotlight on you who hides in shadow,
and they can make you beautiful.
Aurelia Lorca lives in the spaces between duende and the blues. Her stories and poems can be found throughout the small press.