for jannis
vasiliki argyrisgoya’s cats were breathing heavy
that’s why they were fighting like dogs
the plateau was barren, and fruitless, that’s why
they were fighting like dogs
if tintoretto had a cat
it would have been a calico
carrington a tortoise-shell
i stopped believing in the revolutionary power
of art and now i simply enjoy words
i stopped believing in the dripping beauty of
words and now just want revolution
it’s complicated, with knots
painters paint what they know
and cats only
go where they go