Before you opened the bag, Sex
could’ve been something sleek, a jaguar or puma,
but it turned out to be a scraggly orange cat

who leaves messes and claws at strangers
and yowls for attention all through the night.
Spend enough time with Sex and you

no longer hope it’ll fix anything;
it’s just another problem stalking
through the house, hissing at your friends.

There’s no peace if you don’t feed it
and the more you feed it, the bigger
and meaner it gets; you try to stuff it back

in the bag but the bag is too small and the cat
is too big and it hates you. This is the story
of everything you’ve wanted: inside each bag

another cat, be it Love or Art or Purpose—
they mewl their demands, bite each other,
and scratch your feet; they leave you

many brightly colored birds, lifeless and matted
on the living room floor: offerings
or threats, you can’t be sure.