Alley cat

Beneath his thin ravaged coat he's muscular hard.
By a wall, floats up three feet to land atop it, a levitator.
Chewing at the tangles of street-life, easy in sunlight.
What he goes through each day, the wear and tear.
How can he bear the moments of stillness? Staring
unblinking at this all-there-is. There will be rats
in garbage cans, cold, few attentive hands, always
the watching he says. Yesterday's fish good enough
to get by on, a little night banter in the tail.