this morning I feed the neighbour’s cat

I’ve done it for the past few days and nights

it feels like we’re pretending that this is our life now

the first time I fed her, her fur bristled at my touch

now she wipes her body against my calves and her purrs are little rolls of thunder 
I drive my mother to the doctor

wonder what it feels like to have an overcast mind

it’s not too warm, still we wind the windows down

practise breathing, sitting up tall and strong

the air ripples bone-deep against our faces as the clouds pass
at this time of year, dusk can feel like morning

perhaps an afternoon nap kept going until tomorrow

I walk to get ingredients for a dinner that won’t exist

I’ll spend an hour cooking then drop it on the floor

it is morning in other parts of the world and in a handful of hours, it will be here, too
it was overcast today, the sky wiped blank like a whiteboard

and I can’t wait to take a shower

it says it’s 24 degrees and really feels like 24

like that Hawaiian scene in ‘Punch Drunk Love’ where it really looks like Hawaii

in Hawaii, it’s presently 28 degrees, it’s 10pm yesterday, and I can’t imagine how that feels