If you can please a cat then you can please
a ghost, I believe. They’re so similar.
Cats. Ghosts. Sharks. Killers that love their bellies
scratched. I’ve touched shark snout, ghost skin and cat fur.
I could lie, tell you that I understood
what was under my hand. I could, perhaps.
Cats and ghosts both seek out love: that odd, good
human talent, but once they have it lapse
into indifference. Sharks are simply
curious and like to play. But knowing
that, I know nothing. I love mystery
but I can’t explain it. I can just sing.
Of cats’ ghostly needs, the kitten-like ghost
prowling, the shark’s soul that I love the most.