Cat

We lay in the bed one sunny evening after making love
and decide to name our first girl Cat, we were going
to name her Cat, but now we have departed forever from our
love-making, and we do not have a little girl, nor any
children at all, and I am doomed to become the poet
in your dreams who falls continually like the evening rain.

poem by Richard Brautigan
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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