May 11, 2010
By Anonymous

I see
green guts
as spiraled
and as splattered
as an artist's paint canvas.

A fragile body torn,
sliced harshly
through the middle,
limp tail still intact.

Smell the rotting carcass,
on the gritty asphalt.
A desire, a want, a wish.
It burns – flames that demolish a house.
A want to look inside,
explore the remains,
dissect the miniscule being.

Innards shockingly
Not red organs and blood,
but mucus green
and an electric blue.

yet intriguing.

This ill-fated creature
could not escape
the inevitable,
whispered cries
were yearned to be heard.
Too small, too meek,
too feeble,
to evade destiny.

Silent questions,
curious what happened.
Mauled by a fisher?
Butchered by our cat?
A mystery.

I stare on
stiffened by its rigid body,
as sad as a lost loved one.
Feeling of wonder,
lacking an explanation.

But perhaps
certain tales
should be left
Like this
one dead mouse
on the side of the road.

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