“In Defense of Cat Ladies”
At a certain point you can
no longer keep up with the
decades: you didn’t see Shrek,
have only a tenuous grasp
on Pokémon, stopped
listening past Smashing
Pumpkins, still think of
Nirvana as new.
There’s only so much
a body can take, only so
much hype and excitement,
before everything
seems not pointless
but far too pointed.
You prefer the soft, the
slow: a cat’s timeless fur,
a robin’s eye, the lag of
a still-ticking clock.
“Air Supply”
Laurie and I loved
listening to Air Supply
on KIIS-FM’s top-40 show
on Saturdays, singing
“All out of Love”
and swinging our
hair with the kind
of wild abandon you
can only summon
at thirteen when you
see the sky for what
you hope it is:
infinite, a thing
that never will,
never can, run out.
“Time Traveler”
She leapt forward through a portal,
with its drama of stars and darkness,
landing in a room with a ginger cat,
a cup of coffee, and a slow morning, kids
no longer kids, off in their own days.
Then she went back to a distant summer
morning, making pancakes, managing
the constant din and flux of children
waking up, a place where the cat had not
yet found her: another now, all at once.
“Operation Fortitude”
Every day’s a small battle,
a minor victory, a launching
of boats onto distant sand.
The women in my chair
yoga class are foot soldiers,
breathing oxygen through
tubes, moving their arms,
twisting their spines, and
finally going home, where
the real fight begins, to
lift groceries and play
with grandkids and stay
alive—yes, sometimes that’s
the best you can hope for,
the best you can do.
“Feline Monitoring System”
He curls on my bed,
part rabbit, part fox,
fur soft and red,
ears twitching,
high-tech antennae
on a far horizon.
He’s asleep, as he
almost always is, but
remains aware of air.
Vivian Wagner lives in New Concord, Ohio, where she’s an associate professor of English at Muskingum University. Her work has appeared in Slice Magazine, Muse/A Journal, Forage Poetry Journal, Pittsburgh Poetry Review, McSweeney’s Internet Tendency, Gone Lawn, The Atlantic, Narratively, The Ilanot Review, Silk Road Review, Zone 3,Bending Genres, and other publications. She’s the author of a memoir, Fiddle: One Woman, Four Strings, and 8,000 Miles of Music (Citadel-Kensington); a full-length poetry collection, Raising (Clare Songbirds Publishing House); and three poetry chapbooks: The Village (Aldrich Press-Kelsay Books), Making (Origami Poems Project), and Curiosities (Unsolicited Press).
