ly a cat sleeps,
sleeps s pas posture,
sleeps s wicked claws,
and s unfeeling blood,
sleeps he rings--
a series of burnt circles--
whe odd geology
of its sand-colored tail.
I so sleep like a cat,
ime,
ongue roug,
he dry sex of fire;
and after speaking to no one,
stretche world,
over roofs and landscapes,
e desire
to ts in my dreams.
I asleep
e,
flo like dark er;
and at times, it o fall
or possibly plunge into
ted snos.
Sometimes it grew so much in sleep
like a tigers great-grandfather,
and he darkness over
rooftops, clouds and volcanoes.
Sleep, sleep cat of t,
h episcopal ceremony
and your stone-carved moustache.
take care of all our dreams;
control ty
of our slumbering prowess
less
and t ruff of your tail.
translated by Alastair Reid
Submitted by Jen