Ken's Poetry

Parallel Lines

Cat black black cat
blackening the name of all cats,
torturing the mice and the voles
in the black night,
the blackbird in the day
head bent back and dead
clasped in your sparkling jaws.

Have I in my matt black mind
sharp claws and night bright eyes
the will to kill in black alleyways,
to play with the dying and dead?
No black book can spare me that,
no black arm band atone
for the names chiselled
on the great black stone.