Suicide

Today’s the day. The choice is mine. I hold
Each tiny cat before I close the box.
The cardboard’s marked with gutter water stains
From when I found the kittens outside my home.
But I can’t afford them now. So I drive
To the rescue shelter down on Sunset.

There’s still some time before I reach Sunset—
I stop at the super market and hold
A fresh salmon fillet from the driver’s
Side seat for the soft, crying cats boxed
Shotgun. It’d be fun to have cats at home,
But I can’t nurture life when I have stains.

In the lot, the salmon’s gone, the smell’s stained
My hands, and it’s time to find the sunset.
The cats are sad in their temporary home.
I pet the furry calico balls, hold
Them close, so they don't feel trapped or boxed
Like me: beyond the noon of life, driven

In empty minivans and family drives
With Alfred Prufrock’s wife’s aborted stains.
The kittens’ sun has boundless sky: no boxes
Except the one they’re in, traveling to Sunset.
I lost my dawn in 51 50 holds,
And feeling business trip at home.

I deserved more, so they deserve a home.
I arrive and complete my shelter drive.
I lift them free and let the worker hold
My tiny family away from my stains.
I make them promise no early sunsets.
I walk away and leave the U-Haul box

With the shelter’s daily helpers. The box,
With the whole day ahead, will find a home.
And now, I’m free to choose. I leave Sunset
And down the forkless, pathless road, I drive
The fastest pace that lifts my body’s stains.
Today, I have made my choice: No more holds.

My dawn has lost its hold. Away from boxes,
Responsibilities, and stains: I’m home
To smile and drive into my sunset.