As I Wash dishes with my Cat

As I wash dishes
I watch my cat
chase spring bees
with her chattering eyes

Petroleum focused wonderings
to chase away the soap

what I mean when I
think gas is I’m confused
(a little angry also)

and what I mean when I
think confused
is somewhat
willfully bubbled from
backlit information
shot at me from
the gun in my hands

I don’t want to know gas
is 88.5 in the city and
100kms to the west it’s 105.9

I want to think it has
to be that way
the cost of a life under cover
in some idea of paradise
or just some one’s home town
to escape after school is over.

Some laugh strategic
the greedy game of life
is owned by the few who invented
Fox news and celebrity idols
who shout, point and giggle that
change is impossible the world
is too horrible

I hate washing dishes
that cat hates the bees
she’ll never catch
but it’s just a screen between
what she wants and her
forced reality

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