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Third or fourth wind,
I think.
Pissed at the life sedimentary.
A change is as good as a rest.
Round and round the mulberry bush.
Hah. And I see that my old cat
knows he’s bony now.
He challenges the thin air,
and slingshots himself
into the five yard dash.
Then, saunters to his hairy bed.
All humdrum and glum.
I’m thinking we are partners
in the big sad,
and he knows he can’t take care of me
no more.

Lee Dunn View All

Lee Dunn has been writing since the age of 18, but found that work got in the way for the ensuing 48 years. In his home town of Toronto, Ontario, Canada, he reveled in his independence at an early age, and spent as much time as he could exploring the city’s Arts scene. He was introduced to poetry and prose by the works of two literary giants, namely J.R.R. Tolkien and J.W. Lennon and thence fell in love with the written word. His work includes poetry, short fiction, and personal essays, and ranges in theme from the surreal to the horrific, nostalgic, and themes on the human condition. He has been published on, The Dark Poets Club, Journal of Undiscovered Poets, Crepe & Penn Literary magazine, and the Shelburne Free Press.

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