Catastrophe

SYLVESTER soars. he is lord
above all. he is beauty, he
is grace, savors all
the human race.

and SYLVESTER won't be tamed, not in name
or in claws. he is fiercely
on his own, never paused
before a throne.

but SYLVESTER
oh he knows. of CECILIA
and her bones. of her litheness
of her hunts -- of her blindness
to his wants.

and CECILIA bats a lash; she resents
common trash. oh SYLVESTER
how he pines, hopes for flashes
hopes for signs.

still CECILIA loves it all,
loves SYLVESTER like a ball
yarned along to bat for fun
darn it all
the day he'd run!