I know I probably shouldn’t
mention the other male cats
who came before you, Boris.
It doesn’t take a girl
long
to find out
how touchy men are
about old boyfriends.
No matter how much
you’re dying to tell
the guy you’re with
about the time
your old boyfriend
made you drive
a stick shift in the
middle of the night
on the way to Myrtle Beach
even though you’d
only driven automatics
and he went to sleep
and left you there on
the freeway trying to
downshift from fourth
to third
so you could catch
that exit ramp
coming up,
and the thrill of that,
that you managed it
with no lessons,
or that other boy
you jumped out of the plane
to impress
and floated down at 5,000 feet
only to realize
a couple days later
he was gay
and you nearly
splattered yourself
all over Dayton, Ohio, for him,
even though it’s a great story,
DON’T TELL IT.
So maybe, Boris,
I shouldn’t tell you
about the others.
About Audience and Beckett
and Louie and Tobias
and Edward, dear Edward,
whom I found dead
by the side of the road,
after coming home from
a funny movie,
and the awfulness
that I’d been
having a good laugh
at the moment of impact
when that car
slammed into him
and, God, I hope
killed him instantly.
Everyone loved Edward.
Can I tell you that, Boris?
That when a couple
came to buy my house
they wanted Edward with it
and they weren’t kidding.
He was a sweetheart,
loved to ride on my shoulders.
He’d been abandoned like you, Boris.
You two would have had
a lot to talk about.
Yes, there have been others.
But there never was
nor ever shall be
another Boris,
you can believe me
when I say it,
and I tell you we are
here now together
to make our mark,
you and I,
in this brief moment
before we lie down
to an eternal sleep
among the roses.
There have been other cats, Boris,
but of those who disappeared and are
maybe still alive,
one of them is probably
telling some other human
that she’s not the first
he’s loved.
No, there was that other one,
years ago,
with the small blond boy
and all the goldfish
and that constant
Beatles music.
Boris, if you live someday
with another person,
please be kind
when you speak of me,
and explain that, yes, I
was maybe now and then
too alone,
but that I
made you happy,
and that you
made me happy, too.