Homely
       

A simple hand is cold
enough·for pastry.        Although a cat is hatched she plays
the mammal.    Inside a pie, canaries hum
the lazy        hymn: a seed, a pudding, and
a candle.        Arrive in feathers, hard conclusion! press
        on me. I am a cat and wheeled in bagels,                I
am sexed with cat's
eye marbles, less      than thumbs but more
than in the saddle.    Just the birds in a hard belly, just the frosting
        of a ruddy cat who rides on vinyl, just    the butter crust, just
the smacked uncrossing        when I rise. Take me to sing and rust
        my private metal. All is hutches sprung
at dinner,    each a cat's eye rolling inward.

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Copyright © 2015 Mary Elder All rights reserved
from Colorado Review
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission