Poetry: Feed Cat
by J. Patrick Brown
A friend of mine once confessed
that he had spent each summer
landscaping
and thinking of death
specifically, his death –
which grew closer
and closer
with every lazy turn
of a rented lawnmower.
Apparently –
the condition is catching
as I find myself
in my idle moments
reminding myself
that I will not be.
However –
while death was,
for my friend,
a lens
in which his every action was reflected
(this is me, mowing the lawn,
dying)
for me
is a box on my to-do list
as yet unchecked.
Get milk.
Cease to be.
Feed cat.
J. PATRICK BROWN is a outreach teacher in the Metro Boston area that originally hails from New Orleans. He has tried to fight at least two of the editorial staff. He hopes one day to fight you, the reader.



