May 28, 2010

i smashed a mouse’s head with a hammer tonight

by David Morton

it knew it had lived all it would and it squealed
when i lifted the hammer up
i hoped it would feel nothing
but it fidgeted after the first hit so
i hit it a few more times
blood came out
i am such a fragile weak thing
weaker than that mouse
it squealed for its life
but if it could take a hammer to my head
the mouse would do it and go eat
a bowl of macaroni and cheese
you poor thing, you working bit of fur
i hurt at that squeal
we both knew it was the last of you
and when i was small
and the easter eggs were out there
i let my brother go ahead of me
and i hope he found the prized one before me
winning and breathing is terrible sometimes
winning is a breath of a stallion
and it is pathetic and macho bullshit
i see a lot of fools winning
a grandson grew older and
pushed his grandmother down the stairs
and he sits with a win in his bank book
a brother screwed his brother’s wife
and he went home, lit a cigar and thought
about winning
all these goddamn useless winners
roaming the world with less soul
than a buffalo
i smashed that little thing's head
and threw it over the fence
it wanted to live so badly
and i want to live so badly
i sit wondering tonight
at the man over me with the hammer
and i panic
i panic,
thinking of my family and
the girl i love
and what they will do
when my personality
has blanked out on them


T. E. Hieatt said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
T. E. Hieatt said...

David's poetry is raw truth in the act of soul searching. I like them all very much.

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