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Window Sill Resident

Terrorists are everywhere,
don't take a plane,
at a local restaurant, beneath
a wobbly chair,
at gas stops, drinking coke,
eating Burger Kings, catsup or mustard,
at rural stops, Krispie Cremes,
Dairy Queens.

The World Trade Center, they'll
strike again...
We just don't know, how, why, when.
If there's a door or portal open,
They'll stealthily determinedly enter in.

It's not the rich, the poor,
the morphine freak.

Swarthy zealots, hiding in the maze
of pipes, twisting beneath toilet bowls,
arsenic in reservoirs,
railroad stations, suicidal bombs,
theater balconies, typhoid, anthrax leaks,
laundered linen, potties, commodes,
kitchen sinks.

No paranoia for Kahlua...
Purred at our bed,
immediately was not fed,
then be gone.

Window sill resident, she does not care,
perched fixedly, facing worlds outside,
dreams of lions, elephants, days of yore.

Mighty feline home denizen, isolate,
satisfaction not granted,
will not deign us with characteristic
demands... gravity defying leaps,
or ancestral throaty veldt
and jungle roars.

Author: Roy Schoenberg - Bay Shore, New York, USA

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