—IT IS WHAT IT IS

 

 

Mice

 

If I was more skilled 

no one would die or get 

wounded in this poem 

and every mother who 

showed up would have 

her arms flung open 

for a hug. No child would 

be raped and sodomized 

near midnight when the 

only things listening 

were frightened mice. 

If I had enough talent 

this might even be a poem 

people would memorize 

and read aloud when 

they needed a little jolt

to make their day feel 

better than it actually is.