Solid Ground, and: Party Animal

Solid Ground

A fish leaps out of the tank;
suddenly it's a race with time

but I'm a little girl with pounding heart
and inadequate instruction: always
wet your hands before you touch a fish

so I say an anxious prayer and take my
place in the desperate struggle of muscle.

I do it: return him to safety.
I should be proud, but I'm not.
It should be over, but it isn't.

The little bastard swims off
as if it never happened;
doesn't even thank God
that I wasn't the cat

and my heart speeds into morning
needing someone to shout at

but I'm alone with what I dream;
alone with the impulse to freedom.

I wash away what slippery fear I can,
but it's never enough; I'll be called again.

The capricious eye will remake
this journey to the perilous rim.

Party Animal

At my next party,
I'll wear a dress and look
like me, but inside, I'll be a dog.

On the sofa with guests, sly
beast that I am, they'll never
suspect I'm there for the food
and turned-on by their smells.

I'll look into their eyes and nod
like I care; flash that big toothy
grin they seem to adore;

breeze right through
the movie reviews,
politics and dirty jokes.

I'll be the happiest one in the room,
as long as there's cake.