First Greeting
New Mexico, 2009
The toothless self-proclaimed prophet
steps up to me under the hanging red chiles
“There is plenty of room for you
and your people in heaven,” he says
It’s the first line I hear in New Mexico
I smile in response
As I walk towards my adobe home
with a mouse trap in my room
I wonder about these mouse murders
Only the first one felt difficult
Does even murder get easy?
That first time
I woke to a fat, dead mouse
in the trap near my bed
I took the beige trap
with the hanging body
And walked it out into fields of sage
To the beat of a wind turbon
Which powers our waterfall
And flung it hard
But it only landed at my foot
I had not realized how strongly
The clip of the trap holds a dead body
“You used gloves?” asked my ex in a later email
“Naked hands baby.”
It felt more honorable
After I murdered it
To at least risk disease
at its sage funeral.
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All images and writing are copyrighted. These stories will be published by 2012.
Printed version available upon request.
All feedback and comments are welcome. Please send to blissmeander at gmail.com
All images and writing are copyrighted. These stories will be published by 2012.
Printed version available upon request.
All feedback and comments are welcome. Please send to blissmeander at gmail.com