Handful of Kittens

a handful of kittens

crushing sand into a block,
from a black plastic bag he pulls
an enormous string of words,
and throws them in a snarl on the kitchen table.

I rode the subway north and it became
a roller coaster and a woman fell off
and someone passed me a dead kitten
that was sometime quick and soft

from a black plastic bag he pulls
a handful of women
curled up like kittens,
and sells me every single word he has,

and I pay in non-returnable currency,
beg the clean indulgence of a cat,
so curl up by the fire,
and thaw until I comprehend:

someone left their jacket on a fence
under the eyes of your house:
the curving signs and blockages
came busted over the trees.