|
In recent times there lived a mouse
marked early on to die. Did he
supersede his mortal coil? Or simply
fade and go? The world
will never know. A mouse,
a hungry mouth of breath
cut short, a vapoured wheeze
four weeks full breeze
in the glory of a glass-walled cage. Food
in, food out, water for an endless drought -
sad life in a spartan box.
Did the days fly slow in his string-strung bower?
Did he understand the artifice of night?
Did he spouse some hive connection,
billion brethren trawling cross-globe
murdered by the millions, stories untold?
Would he shed a pin-sized tear
to see them gassed and trampled by cold
and leaden Nazi boots? Forsake me for
a mousebite-sized small slice of cake.
Mr mouse, tied to simple whimsy by
simple mammalian mind, I'm sure
you and your brothers don't comprehend
the sprinkled stars I burn.
Mr the house mouse, if I and you
were you and I, would you
write this if I lay dead?
Neocortical impulses
feed my heart to head.
| 