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Poet's Notebook: My poem, “What do I do about the mice: A pacifist's quandary” and comments
Gary Lindorff
What do I do about the mice? (A pacifist’s quandary)
It was late,
In the middle of the second half of the night.
We were asleep.
The mice were not.
They sleep during the day.
They were very busy gnawing
on something in the wall.
It is the kind of sound
That gets to you,
It feels like it’s inside you
Like a trespass.
The breaking of a commandment.
The kiss-off of a “thou shalt not”.
And my wife was not taking it.
She was incredibly awake.
I was only half-awake
When she said,
You have to do something about the mice.
I wondered if she meant, right now.
Or tomorrow,
Which at the moment
Seemed like never.
I have been promising to do something about the mice
For years.
My wife
Is one of the most patient people on the planet.
Or maybe I am.
See, I’m a pacifist.
We have all these little
Have-a-heart traps
That really work.
But in the winter
The average day is too cold
To release the mice-people.
Sure, they are disease-carriers
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Source: http://thiscantbehappening.net/node/3403
