There are no women here,
Just shapeless black cloth bags ignoring me
That drift like windblown plastic bags along the street.
So I must love the stray cats under cars,
Living in dust under parked cars on broken streets –
For they at least watch with big haunted eyes.
I find I dream of cats the size of women,
I stroke their fur,
Published: Ambit 211,
, January 2013 UK