Fingering the spine of my desire,
Lingering over dustjacket praise.
Each clutched cross-armed to chest
For a parade down the aisles.

Stopping to compare, match, ponder,
other choices on the full shelf.
Each publisher's tempting offer
A promise of pleasure's hours.

Bargain paperbacks bent browning,
Slow secure cloth-covered luxury.
The collector alone behind glass
fondling an eternal first edition.

Who is to judge on just a cover?
Due review takes time invested.
The answer is not the choice
Rather the joy of consideration.

I could sit silently here
or feel my hands on your skin.
I could leave now,
but I pull at your clothing
to slide a hand beneath,
feel my lips on your neck,
chase on your body
an urgent overriding
response to compulsion.
Could want, must have.
Could wait, must take.
Could wonder, must know.
Don't speak to me of should.
I still struggle with the difference between
possibility and desire.

Cat freeway

There is a rest area by the back door
Where they stop in hope of fast food.
Sometimes grateful for the passage
They pay a toll in dead rat or bird.
Late at night we hear their horns
bickering in a cattish road rage
They never stop, over the fence,
Through the gate, come feline travellers
Back and forth in a cat commute
Between one life and another.