dead mouse on the patio [Dakota Schulte] thought about how strangely unfair it is to the mouse how i felt about how it might be more shocking or strange to stand next to the carcass of a cat, deer, or human how disturbed i might be but the soggy mouse that lay down and died on the patio another saturday afternoon was only a nuisance vermin people crouch down and weep when Tom gets the ghost knocked out of him but Jerry’s nothing but fertilizer for the zinnias when spring comes in maybe it’s for the best, though—that no one gives a damn about a mouse he was free to do as he pleased to roam or fuck or tear up someone’s brand new trim wasn’t ever caged up and sold like his cousin the hamster who grew fat and diabetic and was probably squeezed to death by some grubby, sadistic kid hell, i bet he was freer than me never had to shave his legs, get an oil change, or pretend he liked his stupid relatives never cared to be liked by anyone never got his teeth fixed, or wedgied a thong between his asscheeks now what i wouldn’t give to be a mouse a nuisance vermin living it up hard and dying fast my rotting tail on some idiot’s stupid patio—that’s how i wanna be a satisfied loner, happy, friendless fuck, nothing to long for, no one to pray for menace to society you won’t mourn for my death you might even rejoice in it but you’ll never rid of me i’ll be a hole in your wall in the winter then i’ll be your flowers in the spring 43 PLAINS paradox