Archive
Escaped Lab Rat
In a lab across the street
researchers are trying to grow
human parts on the bodies of rodents
they’ve posted utility poles with signs
that an escaped lab rat might be found
in the neighborhood, don’t be alarmed
they are clean, used to being handled
I stoop to pick up the morning paper
from my front hedge, come face to face
with a pointy nose that peeps through
an early morning web, shakes it gently
of its night raindrops
the white fugitive emerges on tiny claws
and pink leather tail dragging
scurries into some startled red geraniums
turns, doubles back, hesitates
sniffs to see what’s what, regards me
fleets right over my feet to steal yesterday’s
stale bread from our bird feeder
and I am alarmed, very alarmed
because I am not surprised or shocked at
the beginning of what looks like a human ear
that rides on his back.
Eileen Malone’s poetry has been published in over 500 literary journals and anthologies. Her book I Should Have Given Them Water was recently published by Ragged Sky Press. She lives in the coastal fog at the edge of the San Francisco Bay Area where she is a mental health activist and retired from teaching at local community colleges.
qarrtsiluni 