Hello. My name is Nik.

Pas de chat


A better ballerina
   I bet I’ll never meet
than my cat astride a fence post,
   so sure upon his feet.
All focus is ahead of him,
   his eyes on living meat,
his head aquiver, measuring
   the inches and the feet
that a plié and a sauté clear
   so teeth and meat can meet:
not even Rudolf Nureyev
   could hope to match that feat.

 

1000 words apiece