Here, Kitty-Kitty-Kitty

by Vicki Whicker

He will not find me

behind this roll of hay

on this gorgeous night

in this sweet summer field

with green burdocks

in my hair—

He will not find me.

My handsome man,

my upstate love

standing tall

framed by my backdoor,

calling–

“Here, Kitty-Kitty-Kitty...”

“Here, Kitty-Kitty-Kitty...”

We don’t have a cat

and the dog will not be fooled—

we saw what we saw.

His carpenter hands. My city neck.

The concrete floor. I saw the stars.

I saw stars.

“Think of your daughter,” I whispered.

He unchoked me

to take a smoke.

To think it out. To rope a dope.

I grabbed the dog and ran.

“Here, Kitty kitty kitty”

My house-lights snap off.

He’s thrown the breaker,

my generator turns on–

the lights are back.

He kills the generator.

I left the city to live this dream—

to be surrounded by fields of green,

isolated valleys, that picturesque barn...

A thousand broken stars above me

fleeing the fists of god, screaming

across the onyx sky—

I fall

into uncontrollable shivering.

I fall

into this night of a thousand stars.

I fall

into the milky-way,

Saturn, Venus, Mercury and Mars.

Twinkling twinkling twinkling.

How blessed am I?

Glass shatters. Bump and crash.

I cannot be broken.

I am not my farmhouse.

I am not my things.

“I’ll find you, bitch!”

Rusty car door slamming

like a gunshot, high-beams

blazing, so close!

I can touch them.

I will not touch them.

He’s prowling ditches for me and

three wild acres away

my best-friend is

sleeping, blissfully alone.

Her guy’s gone gambling

their love away, again.

And by the grace of this moon,

by the light of a billion stars,

mine will not find me

crawling

on my hands and knees

to find her.