I got lost in a Walmart and ended up in a UPS store.
At least I think it was UPS.
All around was the smell of unopened packages
and undelivered mail.
An abandoned UPS, then. Isn’t it funny how unsent mail
can have a smell.
It smells like disappointment which smells like spoiling
food which smells
like something I’m pretty sure you’re not allowed
to send through UPS.
Abandoned UPS stores sound like meowing boxes,
but when I opened
the one meowing the loudest, I didn’t find the little
calico I expected, but one
of those little toys shaped just like an egg with cat
ears and painted eyes
and whiskers, the kind that meows if you nudge
to make them rock on their little round egg-cat butts.
I took the little plastic
cat with me during my expedition for the door leading back
to Walmart, stepping over
and weaving between other boxes, meowing, the cat
cradled in my palms
like it was a real bird, indifferent. I found only a cap
with “MAIL ME” emblazoned
across the top. I’ll settle for this, I told the cat.
One hand held the cat
in the bowl of my fingers while the other began
I watched the tiny wings flap as the cat rocked
and meowed. It said to me,
“this is where you belong,” unhappy by my movement
as I bent, and lifted.