Monday, February 11, 2019

Ben Szakovits


it was on a cold day in Texas
When the cat came to her
patio door
he cried, exigently
his hunger and agony
Low, low
just short of a growl
an ugly sound for
such a natty siamese

opened the door for him
as I laid on the
couch, phobic of movement
he sang his rakish tune
while strutting the room
toward Her
Low, low
like Satchmo bleeding through the radio
"Would you like some water?"
She asked,
grabbing two small bowls
from the small kitchen

mixed bread with milk
in one
and poured water
in the other
I watched him move
zealously, now
around Her flitting feet

brought the bowls
to the patio
his once low, implacable growls now
replaced by
a loving purr

and I thought to myself
we weren't so different
he and I

Ben reads "Tomcat":

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Ben confesses: "I found myself nursing a hangover on the couch of a lovely girl I spent the week with. When the cat showed up, I noticed the selfless care in which she accommodated his needs; how she invited him into her home and showed him unconditional love—not unlike myself."

BEN SZAKOVITS is a writer of poetry and prose focusing primarily on realism through the eyes of a wastrel. He pieces together fragments of experiences past and present onto paper in the hopes of creating something beautiful out of ugliness; trying to find the common ground between degeneracy and decadence.

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