GYM CONFESSIONS: 6

wake up routine
my black cat cormac
is a super-feline with
a grand desire to groom
those he loves

sandpaper tongue gliding
the arc of my nose at five
in the a.m. with that buzzing
pur-chest firm on my sternum

little back paws sliding down
the humps of my roll-belly,
endearing love-light letting
me know my nightmare

isn’t real, isn’t plausible;
only he is plausible with that heartbeat
bumping at one hundred and ninety taps
per second

stale turkey-giblets breath
acceptable under the tarp
that is his comfort,
unbreakable and binding.

names my cat has been called
cormac, cormac mccarthy (author of no country for old men),
corm, cormy, cormboy, cormbo, cor (with a guttural roll of the r),
mac, macky, mac-attack, mac’n’cheese, big mac, mackster, macca,
mccormick (like the spice), mick (how i make fun of those who call him mccormick)
mister mac, mister, muster, muss, muss-buss, muth, sir, señor,
baby, babby, da babby, cormbabby,
buh, bug, bug boy, bugs, buggins, bugmac, boy, boooooooy,
buoy, buooooooy, bowie, david bowie,
naughty cat with a tail i want to pull (from my mom),
espresso-maker, biscuit-baker, dorm-bodyguard,
bath-giver, cord-eater, pickle-kicker, designated-driver,
kitty, kit, kibby, kib, kit-corm,
the bat, the prince, the great stink,
love, loveboy, sweetboy,
big guy (the vet upon learning he’d gained three pounds in four months),
my son, my mac, my corm, my cormac.