Alarm clock - check!
The city humdrum - check!
The noisy guy upstairs - check!
The sound of running water - check!
The angry woman on the phone - check!
The furtive cat legions, stray, spoiled - check!
The wars on TV, clamorous, onerous, futile - check!
The shadowy stalkers returning to their hideouts - check!
The mother, worrying about offspring whereabouts - check!
The birds - a farrago of doves, gulls, sparrows, crows - check!
The dogs - spaniels, Great Danes, retrievers, pomeranians - check!
The plumber, wanting money for that job he never completed - check!

The bugs, the critters, the noises behind the walls, the eyes in your kitchen sink -

Check, check, check!

Everything accounted for, I look outside and find no leopards.
You would think that this was natural. This is not
leopard country, but I feel their absence elsewhere, and
I wonder why all the city eyes look inward.

So I walk.

I cut into the sunshine
and sail the concrete waves into
the green - no leopards, into
the blue - no leopards, into
the black;
but everything
is leopardless.

I turn around and go to every continent
because I can.
But all the leopards are gone.
I pick up every newspaper
because I can!
But all the leopards are gone.
I decide to save the entire world
but I can't.
All the leopards are gone,
and everyone is busy
being noisily silent about
how they could not care less.