LlyrentheShrew

The sun is a strange acidic-shade-of-pink and metallic waves of shimmering heat obscure the asphalt –     all I can do is sleep. Scorched air – from the concrete sidewalks below, floats –   through the open window. A constant-thump-of-rap vibrates the floor     and filters into my dreams. Garam masala and saffron rice – fresh falafel and Hare Krishna beans – escape street vendors     to invade my afternoon nap. The rosemary, basil, sage, mint, coaxed into existence on the kitchen ledge may fight this battle bravely –     but they will lose the war.

Come in          through the front door                    down the sidewalk                    up the long street An average house          You           don't know          You           wouldn't see Three matching bowls          stoneware          hand-thrown          one in each of three rooms          she had lived alone The boots he keeps          spattered with paint          lavender and yellow          a memory slipped in a corner Visit at night you might see He and she          asleep          at peace          hands joined overhead, a perfect heart          a love          they dream          

In the event of an          earthquake          tornado          atomic blast Duck and cover                    the desk above you          melamine          aluminum          particles of wood Will surely protect you. Should the sirens sound                    climb a mountain                    go underground Be sure you have          iodine          preserved fruit          canned milk          beans You will surely survive. When the bombs begin to fall                    hide your          money          artwork          photographs          family Surely you will return. In case of emergency

The morning erupts          on little cat feet A flick of the tail          a breath exhaled               too fast at the end of a leap and then A paw,     placed on lid's soft fan of lash breath whirring, throaty, warm          nose             to          nose eyes still closed Then          open Thwack – A stunning velvet attack     innocent lids           unwarned     warm sheets      no safe haven The morning erupts     on little cat feet.