296/365

there was so much light at the house on the water
pouring in through the giant bay window, reflecting
off the yellow table. yoko was absorbed by heat
and delivered her kittens in my parents underwear drawer
one day after school when i was home alone. wolfie died
their. the chronology in a knotted mess. kaveh cried
throughout the night, but it was okay, i was finally not alone.
there were smiles and sunday boat parades. they bought
me a boat from marin surplus that could take me to the sea.
i manoeuvred it in between the yatchs and sailboats through
the canal. one night i took my dad to the mouth off the bay.
it was dark. he sipped his wine. the waves were strong.
i was only twelve maybe thirteen. i had kissed a girl and drunk
until i puked already, but he didn’t know about either.
he trusted me to steer the boat. i felt like a man. this was
the house where i knew i didn’t need them anymore.
the sunshine and the boats brought smiles and freedom.
i learned about led zeppelin and bob dylan there. i learned
about the power of turpentine to dilute stiffened dried paint
and release it unto a canvas. i learned the beauty of being alone.
sitting on the roof at night watching the stars, leaving the window
open, a cool breeze on my naked chest, as i fell asleep.
there was so much light at the house on the water
pouring in through the giant bay window, reflecting
off the yellow table.

176/365

 and what makes a cat great    he asks nonchalantly
                and with a dash of smugness         as if there can be no suitable answer
caught off guard scrambling for an authentic response
                   i just stare at the three legged animal            watching us
from the shadows of the other room                  with her bored elegiac elegance
             i had just told them how much i loved this animal  
and now days later           still sitting with the fact that      people need
            the perfection of cats explained to them        i watch her    
droopy eyed and heaving with breath               having just chased a toy mouse
             all morning          claws retracted           chops licked
in some relatable pose                                         this wild animal and i
in this house                               making the best of a friday morning.

73/365

the tiny bumptious
yellow birds
are making a wispy nest
in the bougainvillea
on our porch
with strips
of plastic trash
and other organic matter
they must have found elsewhere,
as the older cat
stares instinctively—
thousands of years
of predatory compulsion
arrested by a window
of domesticity.

i wonder if they’ll pull it off—
the vulnerability of a few eggs and chicks
in the spring
may teach us all
a few useful lessons.

53/365

looking back it seems
that i mostly learned
how to be a man
by having kittens
as a boy.

something about the need
to coax the attention
felt more earned—
than say,
the desperate gushing
of an eager puppy.

such mercurial
sacks of guts and bones.
the damp noses,
the risible rate
of their minuscule hearts,
the narcotic vibrations
of their soporific purr,
the inexhaustible eyes:

intrepid
audacious
lion-hearted

looking back it seems
that i mostly learned
how to be a man
by having kittens
as a boy.

28/365

i need inspiration to get this one off the ground.
i move to the bedroom
grab the novel i’m reading
mine a line
to get things started.

once in the room
the light of our
permanent plastic mini
christmas tree
and the whiff of
a homemade
cherry merlot candle
are calm and soothing

i execute push ups
60-90 of the daily 100
only 10 left before bed
that’s a 100 a day for 393 days
but the middle-aged gut
still feels foreign on this former skinny body.

i grab the book and flip it randomly:h

her eyes sour with animal confusion.

what the hell do you expect me to do with that?
the cats were angry
when we all got home after dark
sitting in the silence
pacing
moaning
perhaps with sour
animal
confused
eyes

24/365

everything i learned from my dad, i learn through song lyrics
often late at night in drunken reverie, sometimes on sunday
mornings

always at high volume, coupled with a lithe jig, or maestro arms
fanning the music, throughout the house, passed the fire and into
me

i couldn’t help but remember, this morning, feeding the cats
avoiding them as they howled, and skirted beneath my
feet

our house is a very, very, very fine house, with two cats in the yard
life used to be so hard, now everything is easy 'cause of
you 

23/365

spent a lot of time.
with the guitars today. carving out.
those three songs. again.

the rest of the day.
we played. the music loudly.
in the car. again.

the two cats minus the yard.
chasing each other. reminded me.
of dad’s song. again.

the skate park. a book.
new bikes. movie box.
pizza. salad.

it rained in the afternoon.
a gentle dusting. weighing.
the cool breezes down. again.