At the entrance
to Forest Park today, a lumbering Bobcat
painted white exhales sooty dragonian smoke. Going
about its task of rearranging the crust of Pleistocene sewage,
it leaves behind tracks not
compatible with anything presently alive.
When evening descends
and the key's turned off,
ears emerge, eyes appear,
sooty skin brightens to a sleek brown pelt. Stepping out of
its treads, the cat paces into
the night, scanning for predators and prey.