Fred Aiken Writing

slow down; too fast

my cat threw up because she got too excited about her new food and ate too fast,
but i forgot to throw on some socks, so i accidentally stepped in her vomit
before realizing that she got sick in a small puddle in the kitchen.

it rained last night, might still be raining, i don’t know, i can’t find my raincoat,
and even if i could, i don’t think i’d wear it because i don’t like the feel of the material,
but whenever it rains, at least one or two frogs find their way to the back patio door,
and my cat has a field day staring at them, studying their movement and behavior,
almost like a furry herpetologist that will convey her theories
for a few chin scratches and rock-lobster-flavored treats,
though hopefully she won’t eat them too fast

summer camp

a girl named jackie looks into the mirror,
though she doesn’t see herself,
at least not anymore,
not for a long time,
not since perhaps she was seven years old
and was looking forward to going to an equestrian camp
in new england, where she met her first crush, vincent,
whom she shared a dry kiss behind the stables
while the other kids galloped about
in the air with no seatbelts

car floss

i keep floss in my car,
but i don’t eat anything in there,
though somehow there’s always food crumbs
on my floorboard,

i suspect it’s a sparrow sneaking into my car
when i’m at work,
snacking away on a few kernels,
and of course the sparrow doesn’t
need to use my floss either