Chasing Liquid

Suppose you were a little cat

residing in a person’s flat

not yielding to the yellow jackets

floating in the bowl of effervescent

grapefruit water.

The jackets don’t flinch

          when you pierce through their veil

with your barbed tongue

          and let the bubbles cascade down

          your throat.

Suppose your masters were dining out

          at a closed down Italian restaurant;

you knew about the fire there in ‘85

          that killed them

and six others.

The bread on the table softening over years,

          yellow jackets making homes

in her bare knees;

they have all the utensils now
           with which to eat their silver soup.