Hudson by Holly Day

The lawnmower makes me wish
I was an animal, some four-footed hoofed thing
that lived on flowers and tree bark.
Its noise makes me run and
hide in my room.
These clothes make me wish
I was pure beast, a sleeked-furred carnivore
that gave birth in a den,
fed carrion to my children.
These clothes make me ugly and
keep me meek.
This bed makes me wish
I was alone, or something with claws,
that I had my own scent, and not that of the man
that lumbers in here at night
and says that I'm his.

Dinner by Holly Day

When Jesus came to dinner
He was perfect. He complimented me
on my silverware pattern
although He didn't seem to notice
I'd put the good china out.
Later, over coffee and cake
He'd admitted that He hadn't been following politics too much
has been adsorbed in tracking weather patterns
bird migrations
global things.
"If it's on television, I probably
haven't seen it," He explained.