Cat is writing pocket poems

pretty drunk while
my family stones justice:
the kind they mistake
for fraud;
what a way to
quiet doubts

contempt , warm march
when the gentle lemon
cures —
she too fights and
hates

fame and pleasure~
a poems problem
to us,   bright
mistakes are sour
graves.

long season:   for a
second ; our peace
that  new luck ...
can we still study
great works

l burn this candle
all day
a brand , friendship;
stretch my doubt
that damns