no typewriter or ABCs necessary

by Rob Plath

often my poems are 

falling from the mouth 

of my old wooden 

schoolhouse desk 

that’s stuffed w/ them 

& if i’m not looking 

my cat will sink

her fangs into pages 

she’s my best critic 

& knows goddamn well 

that all this scribbling 

is such bullshit 

even the poems about her 

milk-white whiskers 

fanned out in moonbeams 

or her diamond yellow eyes

calmly blinking at me 

during a thunderstorm

she’d much rather i just sit w/ her 

my hands instead brailling 

the buttons of her backbone 

or rubbing her belly 

b/c she is it—poetry incarnate

Contrary to popular belief, Rob Plath is not yet under the jurisdiction of the worms. His latest book of poems, Batter the Keyboard Like a Raptor Is Behind Yr Back, is available from Laughing Ronin Press. See more of his work at: https://na01.safelinks.protection.outlook.com/?url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.robplath.com%2F&data=05%7C01%7C%7C884f26d4642447b37dde08dafbd27fcc%7C84df9e7fe9f640afb435aaaaaaaaaaaa%7C1%7C0%7C638099178749833510%7CUnknown%7CTWFpbGZsb3d8eyJWIjoiMC4wLjAwMDAiLCJQIjoiV2luMzIiLCJBTiI6Ik1haWwiLCJXVCI6Mn0%3D%7C3000%7C%7C%7C&sdata=nUFUqIO%2FqMGdsIPxME02Zxinp%2BHrxKnCzrdv8p4u0EM%3D&reserved=0