Who has not wished her husband into a cat? by Christine Hamm

We see how the world enters him without us,

how his eyes focus elsewhere

when we wear our new dress.


Who has not wanted to pluck

from between carburetor and crankshaft

a small white puppy--

and have it be his heart?


If only he could be fixed forever

in the shape of the animal he becomes

inside us--


some mixture of salmon and giraffe,

something as eloquent as a Labrador's sigh,

or as relentlessly solid as the rub of Siamese's cheek.



Animal love is the only love

men allow women.

and it is so short:

only that moment

in which a bear cub murmurs to himself

and begins to suck.

Found atExquisite Corpse #14