PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

We lay beneath the spooky twisted tree, mess of bags and suitcases tucked away and scattered scraps of socks or other random ideas and articles of linen hoarded out from the dumpster dives of our job in recycling, ready to cramp up for another night of no-sleep. It was dark and you could see the blinking lights of surveillance drones hover in the blank city skies, through the layers of leaves and tangled gray branches above. 

‘Drones. If you need to light up a smoke. Do it under the blanket. Then, hold the lip of a soda can or something around the cigarette as you are puffing so the ember don’t glow, ya dig, cause it might blow our cover.’

The large family of mice living there would squeak between the trees and scurry about and over our bodies at midnight. One time I was quite lucid when a mouse seemed to be on a dare to sprint across us both in a fit of little high-pitched giggles. Needless to say, I myself was startled awake, with a heaping dose of sudden fright. 

We had acquired a surplus of nuts from one of the dumpsters and used them to toss into the brush thereby feeding the mice with. There were evidently a lot of babies- these fuckers be breeding like crazy- and thus they probably needed the protein. So we’d toss the nuts like bread for pigeons. Then when we woke in the morning while going through the usual routine of getting everything ready for the day ahead, we saw that a baby mouse had somehow made its way into Pungus’ flashy retro hamster cage.