Cat's newest collection: Table for Two
Sample poem:
The Chef Makes Deliveries
He carves moon-shaped marks along her apartment building entryway—waning crescent, waxing gibbous, last quarter. When she sleeps, he slips into her room to cross her pink forehead with ash. He loses time. Her glossy calendar page—white block stars against her bedroom wall—a witness to his nighttime visits. With a black marker, he draws X's on each day of the month. In the morning she finds cloth napkins in her doorjamb.
