June 21st, 2015
Picking ticks from the belly of a cat
Dangling blueberries, juicy and fat
Far in the distance, a rumbling thunder
Had some music to what lies under
There's nervous silence, thick like bu*ter
The popping of ticks thrown in the fire
And then comes the phone call he's been waiting for
I can hear him talking through his bedroom door
And I hope for the best
But prepare for the worst
He looks relieved when he returns
Oh, how brutal it can be to wait
The cat brushes against his leg