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

2 comments:

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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