I Saw a Dead Cat Lying by the Side of the Road

If it elicit a comfort and sorrow

all the way from chin to moist nose,

and the nape can curve for talk,

well, a dead cat can look like Fay,

turned as she is across an ICU cage

like a vessel, storm-racked, emptying into a bay

poor Fay! where nurses dab her back

and prick her so I could say,

"Oh Fay! I saw a dead cat as I ran

as I ran today by the side of a sloping road"

—so I'd say this to curved space

& pass my hand through

"It looked like you & you like me."

All soft repose, all sprightly pillow pose

configured for the box's arch,

at last. "A night for snuggling close."

But softly-stenciled forms fade to the earth,

returning powdery for the day.

If I ran my finger down its face,

could I still say I'd kissed its face, dear Fay?