Cat People

Granny Glime the animal whisperer
her grand nephew the Greenwich Village
artist who painted only cats, except for
the occasional abstract butterfly, then
us, the various progeny, all cat people
tolerating the occasional dog or two
just by happenstance, the same fate
or synchronicity bringing felines into
line with untold worried rodents and
the late night yowling out back hot
New York summer nights and the fights!
Uncle Don knew alley cats the likes
of which would take out rats the size
of breadboxes and who would watch
passersby with highly wary eyes like
those who haunt Dyckman House out
back Inwood by the smokehouse overshadowed
by neighboring buildings and time's
eternal churning where cats are known
to prowl all the way back to some
whisperer who set it all in place, cats
and the human race.

Fake

The truth of the lies

often meets the eyes

observing from disgust

of the fabricator's fatal

flaw, fiction's flimsy crusts

over what goes around

coming around hypocrisy

is just fake news real and

he fatally just looks in a

mirror what does he see

in the eye of the beholder

not anything older than

the end of history that 

never really ends 'til the

last historian dies

and all the lies left

fall into the cleft

the funnel of

the bereft

it's over

the end