I can’t think while the mice are listening
my only companions although they disgust me
waiting for me to leave by the door or by dying
in either case, revolution is on their tiny minds
savvy their infinitesimal Hitchcockian urges
gathering en masse behind undulating walls
in noxious league with other species of vermin
I can’t even tiptoe around the room, thanks to
broken shards of psychic warfare littered about
I put on my Kafka mask, shut tight all the windows
as an insidious karma corrodes the cancer within
I can’t abandon the proscenium for fear
of demolishing the fourth wall for good
Jay Passer's work has appeared in print and online since 1988. He is the author of several chapbooks and has appeared in a bunch of anthologies. His latest collection, they lied to me when they said everything would be alright, from Pski's Porch, is available at Amazon. Passer lives and works in San Francisco, the city of his birth.
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