Monday, November 18, 2019

INVADER




Got nothing against
them, they have a right

to exist, I just can't
tolerate their ilk

taking shelter here. This
is where I live—my

home. They're dirty;
I have a duty

to defend my family.
After I flooded

a burrow in the yard
one turned up

in the house. We packed
all the dry food

in the kitchen
into plastic

containers, woke
to find them

shredded and scattered.
That's when we knew

no harmless wee
mouse was this. Our kid

just a baby,
we were scared

it might visit
his crib at night.

It bored a hole
through the baseboard

back of the fridge,
clearly had a track

between there and
the plumbing under

the sink. We bought
warfarin, snap traps,

we went on alert.
Third night of its

occupation, I heard
a rustle from

the cupboards. I slipped
on my loafers

and crept into
the kitchen. I swung

the door below the sink
open and the crinkling

stopped. Behind cartons
of bin bags, rags

and cleaning supplies,
I sensed it was there.

I kicked a box,
out it flew, I brought

my foot down
and trapped it,

belly-up, struggling.
Her teats were bulging—

she must have been
gravid. My heart

beat hard, I pressed
down harder, her body

as large as my size-ten
loafer, repulsive

skinny tail a good
six inches extra.

I bore down on her
until damn sure

she was no longer
breathing, then dumped

the dam and her unborn
pups in the green bin.
















No comments: