11/279

"Welcome to Washington!" I said to my friends.
The city rumbled beneath us.
"I am Seattle, how dare you call me Washington! 

I am nothing like the east! or even Tacoma!"
"Oh," I replied, "welcome to Seattle, a quite 

different place from the rest of Washington."

"This is my dog." I said to the woman.
She, the dog, lept, pushed her paws into my chest
like index fingers and barked,
"I am a golden retriever, canis familiaris, 

how dare you rope me in with the likes of wolves!"
"Oh," I replied, "this is my canis familiaris, an altogether 

friendlier and different creature than a wolf."

"That cat across the street guards its owners house like a soldier."
The cat skipped like a stone across the pavement to my feet and hissed,
"I am a felis cattus. Guard I may, but I am no savage. Watch your language."
"Oh," I replied, "I quite like your demeanor." and turned to my friend, 

"excuse me, this felis cattus is dutiful, but is not like a tiger or lion 

or any other more savage cat."

Introducing a student to a new teacher, 

providing some scene for the interaction,
"Max is a bright student. He likes music."
Max quickly retorted, "I like punk rock, 

and classical from the 18th century,
and some dance music."
"Oh," I replied, "what I mean is, Max likes listening 

to punk rock music, and only some classical, 

and also some dance, 

but is less inclined to listen to other kinds of music."

The shovel in my hand twisted back, 

staring contested my doubt, and professed,

"You know, I am also a fantastic paperweight, and if 

swung hard enough, you may even wield me as a formidable axe."

"Oh," I replied, "shovel these had not surfaced 

in my mind, for you are such a fine shovel,

but I will respect your request. Forgive me,

shovel-fantastic-paperweight-but-also-formidable-axe,

when swung hard enough."

At the end of the day, I asked my friend

how he was feeling. Assuming he was tired,

I let daggers be daggers as he told me

there wasn't any way I'd understand.

So canis familiaris, felis cattus, 

Max likes punk rock music only 

some classical but also some dance, shovel 

fantastic paperweight but also 

potentially formidable axe, 

and friend too different to comprehend 

existed within ourselves,

oil rigs in the Atlantic,

in a city quite different from

its roots,

our mouths too full of words

to see into any one of our souls.