old Leo is always relevant

last night was so hot it woke me up.
the kitty was running from room to room and crying.
(we gave away her kittens last week.)
she cried and i sweated and counted backward from 500.
finally, i called to her, and we laid together
in the close, dark heat and slept.

today i got a call: Uncle Leo is dead.
(Grandma's brother with all the money.)
for 20 years she hoped she'd inherit,
but he held on while teeth fell out his face.
and grandma can't remember anymore.
don't think i'll see her at the funeral on wednesday.

after work i went to Bryant's park.
i drank and drank, read some War and Peace.
and then lightening and rain were everywhere
and the asphalt steamed and everyone ran.
on the subway prince Andrei imagined his own stinking corpse.
(his girlfriend ditched him, his father just died and Moscow's about to rain froggies.)

i cried on the train. that's always awkward.
the rain was done when i got off and sloshed home through the puddles.
my shoes started to molt from the inside.
and the ground was cool; i could feel it with my feet,
up my dress, on my palms, under my chin.
but the air above my hair (and in my throat) was still hot.

at home now. i just rolled myself a lovely, lovely joint.
the kitty slept on my bed all day. she left her shedding in my bedding
and coughed up a hairball in my favorite chair.
it's been a hard days night, but i'm too tired to stay up and watch
(even if it IS the Beatles). my joint's nearly up,
and i have a busy day of aggregating tomorrow.