I have retreated from the public eye and am engaged in measurement
and experimentation, in coaxing objects and cat, observing gravitational

forces and studying the effects of aqua therapy on the invasive Japanese
beetle, all in the quest for MORE. Is this not the American Way?

The cat, of course, cooperates only when it pleases her. When I provide
origami cranes, she turns her attention to salt shakers. If I line up paper

cups, she turns her back and randomly flicks coasters from the table onto the floor.
Last week she pushed selected poetry books to the backs of their respective

shelves. I am still determining the connection between Akhmatova, Auster,
Berryman, Hirshfield and Jess, but once I find it, the key will certainly follow.

In one of her stops, the debris trail resembled Stone Henge. In another,
elements of the periodic table were clearly in play. And this was preceded

by a message in Morse code. My pharmacy texted an hour ago, to inform me
that my prescription was ready for pick up. I have no time for such matters.

“Reh eh,” the cat says. “Feed me.” My responsibilities are many. I must smooth
the secondary blanket, and put away the dishes. I must recharge the flopping

trout and retrieve scattered mice and foil balls. I must calculate space and time
and the effects of sodium in multiple dimensions. But first, I will sauté her salmon.

Robert Okaji holds a BA in history, served without distinction in the U.S. Navy, toiled as a university administrator, and no longer owns a bookstore. His honors include the 2022 Slipstream Press Annual Chapbook Prize, the 2021 riverSedge Poetry Prize, and, at the age of nine, the Bar-K Ranch Goat-Catching Championship. He was recently diagnosed with late stage metastatic lung cancer, and lives, for the time being, in Indiana with his wife, stepson, and cat. His first full-length collection, Our Loveliest Bruises, will be published by 3: A Taos Press in the fall of 2024 (not posthumously, he hopes).