Here's one of my poems just in case you were missing out on some crazy cat lady/black widow action.
Pussy
I will have twenty cats and just as many lovers that I’ll keep lined up on a wall,
Not the cats, they don’t stand at attention as urns with ashes do, and pictures in frames
They always found others, but never quite moved on
a bit of them would rather be with me
if only dust in a jar to occasionally stumble over
with marabou trim, pedicure, and a leopard print dressing gown
oh, it’s not that obvious, is it?
No, lust is something more than planning,
they learned; that they like being helpless
tasteless is a flavor all it’s own and can be anything
strawberry, vanilla, handcuffs, secretary,
naughty nurses them back to health,
they find a vitality in the taboo, that I expose and conceal
like a dagger, blood-reddened lips, each kiss a bit of them inside me
falls away with a fluid wrist motion,
nothing is missing, but I’ve taken them
all the pieces are here, waiting in the doorway
I smile at the chance opening before me
As the mailman slides another letter into the brass box
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