Tag: a.i.Art
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The Old Woman With No Cat
The St Malo Sardine Incident(Or: A Feline Foreign Policy) The Old Woman stands at the counter in St. Malo,a case of sardines in lemony oiltucked under her arm,her wallet slightly lighter,her heart slightly french. The shopkeeper smiles.“A good choice, madame. For a special occasion?” She thinks of the cat,not hers, never hers,waiting on the windowsill,tail…
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6 May: dVerse Quadrille
Forty-Four Blooming Words a populationof self-seeded daisieson French verges. common,persistent,blooming anyway. no gardener names them,no border holds them;they take what is given. small faces turnto passing cars,white as breath,bright as forgetting, rooted where chancedecidedbeauty isenough. Written for dVerse Poets’ Quadrille: bloom ©Misky 2006-2026.
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The Old Woman With No Cat
The Cat’s Nocturnal Quest (Or: a brief romance in three acts) ACT I: THE EXIT“Don’t wait up, old woman,” he purrs,tail held high like a banner of mischief.“I have… errands.Of a personal nature.Involves a wicked womanand a well-stocked pantry.” ACT II: THE RETURNDawn finds him back on the windowsill,whiskers tipped with cream,a single sardine tin…
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2804: Haibun Monday
No Facebook. No X. Less news — especially politics and war. It seems endless, a kind of tinnitus. I move through the day in relative silence, reclaiming space, attentive again to the small things around me, freed from the relentless alarms of a thousand strangers. Today, after lunch, I sat in the sun and drifted…
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2704: A Different Six
Without Sense I am tired of men who grinwhile cities burn, of suitswho call it strategy, of flagsused as shrouds. I am tiredof the loud being mistakenfor strong, of crueltydressed as realism,of madnessgiven microphones while decent peoplecount coins,ration heat,and bury children. Do not ask mefor balance when the scale itselfis broken. Do not ask mefor…
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The Old Woman With No Cat (part 1)
The For Sale Sign (Part 1) (A Cat’s Crisis of Convenience) The cat sits on the Old Woman’s fence,tail twitching like rhythmic panic. “Do you see that?” he hisses, eyes wide as saucers.“A sign.A literal sign.Your neighbours are selling my secondary residence.” The Old Woman sips her tea.“It’s their house, cat.Not yours.” “Semantics!I have a…
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The Old Woman With No Cat (Part 2)
THE SEAGULL DEBACLE (Part 2)(A Lesson in Avian Betrayal & Feline Accounting) The seagull —whose name is Keithand whose morals are negotiable agrees to the terms: One dramatic dive,one defaced sign,one endless chip buffet. He swoops.He squawks.He… misses. The S in “FOR SALE” now bears a chalky, dubious streak.It reads: “FOR ALE.” The cat stares.“You…
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2404: Liturgies of a 3rd Eye
Part 2: Liturgies for a Third Eye Liturgy for the Unpicking(for hands learning a new kind of sight) I. The Knot Does Not Know She Cannot SeeIt does not softenout of pity.It does not loosenits blind architecture. It waits,patient as stone,for her touchto learn its language. II. First ReckoningHer fingers fumble,a strangerin a darkened room.…
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2304: Ekphrastic Poem
Boy and the Candle he bends above the hour as if darkness were something fragilethat could be opened by hand. the candle is not large, yet gathers the whole roomto itself — a small white throat of fire. and the boy, eyelid and cheekbone, leans close enoughto borrow its breathing. light climbs his facelike thought:…
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2104: The Liturgy
Liturgy for Market Day at Vienne(where the living bargain and the dead witness) I. The Uneven WorldThe stone setts are uneven,not worn smooth by time,but accusing.Each misstep a reminder:you do not belong here.Your feet have not learnedthis city’s particular limp. Felreil’s boots slip in the persistent drizzle.My hems drag through muckthat smells of horses and…
It's Still Life 