Recession (Graphic Warning)

Recession

She stares at an indigo pool
of partially-congealed blood
that fills a shadowed tray
of November rust.
A tiny ocean, with
the meniscus punctuated
by a carnival of honey flecks
like the scatterings of a dandelion clock
and an archipelago
of roadside gravel.
She lifts her head and howls,
looking to the tree:
a congregation of one
to the numinous murmur of insects
and the anatomy of her beloved cat
displayed in flesh and nails
and a notice of foreclosure.


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