Breaking Up With Philomena

The phone rings late in the afternoon
She says she wants to see me tonight
I take another drink and contemplate the dance

Later, the cats look at us disapprovingly
I let them out to search for better company in the alley
“Leave the bastards and come back to bed.”, her complaint

I can’t take my mind off them,
seeking what they may in their wanderings
Prowling carelessly about in the dark
in the freedom of the blithe shadows

Pulling at me from under the covers with impatience
she says, “Are you going to stay here with me,
or do you want to join them?”
Scratching the day’s stubble on my face,
I weigh the merits of her query.