mouse symphony 

we shrank the kitchen to the size of a plum.
it was no use anymore. we weren't going to cook.
all the birds outside were talking about sitcoms 
& plucking children from the sidewalk to take as their own. 
i crouched down to peer into a hole in the wall 
to see if i could spy on the mice that morning. 
they wore t-shirts that said, "no more gods." 
they were organizing a strike. i asked them what they're striking 
& they said "that is for us to know." i sat & thought about
how i would be a fairly good mouse. 
i wished i could join their efforts. felt desperately alone.
still, most days, i want to be those bodies & not my own.