by Larry Blazek

She's Got the Face for Watching Murder

Ice-cold green eyes or just slits
into the vortex of her mind
sensuously licking her thin lips
observing the beheading
slightly amused by the surprised look
upon the victim's face
what a pity, she sighs
all that blood gone to waste

Coffee House Cat

I sat in the coffee house
to listen to and read poetry
forgot to bring any
couldn't remember any
a thin woman with short
dark hair was reciting
the coffee house cat
leaped upon my lap
as I pet her she shed
upon my pants
a grey-haired man
with a neatly trimmed beard
was annoyed by my brushing
I went for my knife
he smiled and asked
where I was from
I said East Chicago
still couldn't remember my lines
kept brushing cat hair