"On a Desolation of the Animals at Night."
"I used to think that the animals were
exempt from human suffering because they had no brains.
But now, I'm not so sure because I
hear two cats moaning on the windowsill,
sleeping in a desolation not to be denied.
Why is it that the dirt made flesh must suffer
for its intuitions for a while before it goes back
to its nature?
What, dancy cats?
Why, sleepers?
Why are the insides of your bone heads cleverer
than opals, onyx, and Egyptian goddesses
in bearing witnesses to what's what:
those roaring horrors of the universe, the stars,
if we could only hear them, burning outside the window
while you cats sleep, moaning on the windowsill
as I watch out from something wondering inside?"