mouse trap

you walk past
an alleyway
when you hear a little
squeaky voice going
pssst, pssst, hey
buddy, can you help
a brother out? you
stop and look down
the narrow, brick
lined alley full of
trashcans and weeds.
it's wet and it stinks.
but there it is again,
psst, hey, hey, what
are you deaf, look
down. right here. you
look down, and it's
a fat little mouse
wearing a hipster hat
and sunglasses stuck
in a mouse trap.
could you lift up
that little metal
bar, it's holding
my tail. he has
cheese all over his
furry mouth and
lips. roquefort, he
says. american cheese,
sharp, cheddar and
i'm walking away, but
roquefort on a cracker
with a little pear
sauce, well they
got me. i was lucky it
didn't snap my head
off like my cousin
louie. you step in
closer and lean down.
come on, he says.
get me outta here.
how do i know you
won't bite me, have
rabies or something,
i tell him. maybe
you're spreading
the bubonic plague.
what are you a child,
he says. you're scared
of me. i'm a mouse for
god's sake. look at
my teeth. he bares his
teeth which are full
of crackers and cheese.
it takes me an hour
these days to chew
through a telephone
wire. and we got a bad
rap on that bubonic
plague thing. read your
history books. it was
those damn fleas catching
a ride on us that did
it. at this point he
has his two little pink
paws together, pleading
to be helped out so
you pull the bar off
his long grey tail,
freeing him.
thanks, he says,
tipping his hat back,
then suddenly he takes
a nip of your finger,
drawing blood. he scampers
away, laughing, looking
over his shoulder. hey
better go to a doctor
and have that checked
out. you might have
the bubonic plague.
you start chasing him,
kicking over trashcans
and throwing lids
but he zig zags
down the alley,
finally disappearing
between two bricks
in the wall where
you hear him high
fiving another mouse.