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

me

by David Morton

i dont know what you are, dave,
david
david
i dont know what you are.
killed no giants
but dave i am
a david alive
born shy and fevered and nervous
grown shy and fevered and nervous
until the alco had come
tastin like the devil and
cutting the shy and the fevered and the nervous
until there is too much
and then cutting the stomach
bleared out dave
dave drinking and gone out.
talking dave.
talking to women dave.
goddamn you dave!
going out in the woods.
on the coldest day dave
and eyeing the animals dave
dave drunk and crying
failing dave
loving dave
to the bar dave
to drink and be dumb to nerve
to be dumb to worry
and thought and love
to drink and drink
until the head is on the table
and the bitches are screaming
the violent have whiskeyed
and pushing
and the past violents
look at their wives and kill away
their violence to these new violents
they smile off the violence
dave goes to the covered bridge
staggered and lonely
the moon on his pants and
dave dont want it on his pants
crying for the night and the dead
and the fuckers who live
who god thinks are the coolest
and i lay there in the nite
on the cold wooden bridge boards
damning myself to hell
with a murderous headache
because i had earlier
called god a fucker
i am SO SORRY GOD
i say that over and over
and my head hurts worse and worse
god punishing me
dave finally sleeping and waking and happy
nerves laid out on the hospital beds
yelling at the nurses
dave drinking coffee
dave visiting his grandparents
dave feeling awake but tired
dave feeling better knowing he
had heard the birds early and first in the morning