February 21, 2017
I'm on a wild ride:
a canal route back through time.
I run the maze backwards
-- my weak claws
scrabble fast beneath me --
back to the start.

I'm a geriatric mouse
Nearing my sorry end.
I offer up
My lattice of arteries
To the altar of science.

I'm wading through
A heavy, heady haze.
My synapses spark
Like malfunctioning firecrackers.
My pinhead paws
Are still.

I'm as tiny and innocuous
As a baby's clean white sock.
I'm as tiny and stupid
As a sagging sack of sugar.

I'm gone.

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