Bath

Paul Hostovsky

The cat cleaning itself,
like the poem about the cat cleaning itself,
is focused on one thing only:

one, two, three,
and sometimes one, two, three, four
accented licks to the forepaw,
then a rub

to the ear, which is where
the true focus of all these diligent
dripping syllables lies,

the licking a kind of
calibrated flow from a faucet
onto a washcloth,

the softly repeating hook
to the ear a kind of chorus, a kind of
Q-Tip, a kind of hook
that has distracted you from your life,

from yourself, from your focus
on yourself, the way the cat
suddenly stops, looks up, ears shaped

like a hat changing heads
on its head, listening for something else
to focus on. And detecting
nothing out there more compelling

than this, it returns to it,
and gives itself over to it
utterly.

---

Paul Hostovsky
Paul Hostovsky's poems and essays appear widely online and in print. He has won a Puschcart Prize, two Best of the Net Awards, and has been featured on Poetry Daily, Verse Daily, The Writer's Almanac, and the Best American Poetry blog. He makes his living in Boston as a sign language interpreter.