the weekly poem.com

Mouse Calls

My tail unshrivels.
Where it was as thin as ash
on a human cigarette, it wags like a finger.

Ears: they appear
like velvet saucers, picking up
radio signals.

Someone has put a new
speaker into my squeaker:
EEEK.

As for my eyes,
they spark like arcs of fire
and my whiskers

have the consistency
of shoe-laces
on a toddler's plimsolls.

I could swallow a truckle of cheese
and frisk
with a bucket of biscuits.

I hope the humans
don't find me handy,
not while I'm randy:

if they grew young like this
they would never
shut their fat traps.

Click here for the story in The Guardian.

Read Bill's 'Bill Posters' blog by clicking here

Mouse Calls
“Scientists claim to be a step closer to reversing the ageing process after rejuvenating worn out organs in elderly mice.” – The Guardian.
Dec 1 2010

POETRY KIT WEBRING

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