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Palpitate

Day 23, waiting for the sun —
and your voice is losing memory.
I watch the cat do zoomies,
ignore the clock. Your last phone call
was short, no sweet — but I’m
determined as November gray
to hang around. You once told me
you’ll never quit and I believe you —
a rare moment of truth. The clock
palpitates; each tick louder than
bombs. I light a smoke, watch
TV on mute. I wish I knew how to
quit you — or at least cut back —
but you never think it’ll get that far.

—
Cathy Porter’s poetry has appeared in Plainsongs, Homestead Review, California Quarterly, Trajectory, Cottonwood, Nerve Cowboy, Chiron Review, and various other journals. She has several chapbooks available from Finishing Line Press, Dancing Girl Press, and Maverick Duck Press. Shuffle and Go is her latest collection, from Bottlecap Press. Cathy has been nominated for several Pushcart prizes. She lives in Omaha, Nebraska.

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