mice in the cupboard

a box of saltines
is all you find
on the top shelf.
the cupboard
is almost bare.
you get the stool,
and peek up into
that deep dark
area where you
never go. you see
a bunch of mice
standing around,
with their paws
on their hips.
they have a list
of grievances
written out on
a shred of paper.
an old grey mouse
is writing one last
thing at the bottom
as he rests his
elbows on a table
they made out
of a wild mushroom.
they hand you
the tiny scroll,
making squeaking
noises, pulling
on their whiskers.
more cookies,
the note says,
more open boxes,
more bags
of dried fruit,
a bag of sugar,
white and brown,
and fruit juice
packs with the easy
zip opening.
one of them has
written down cheese
three times.
you read through
the list, and nod
your head, okay, okay,
you say. i'll see
what i can do.
geez. anything else?
you hear one of
them squeak loudly,
tooth pics, we
could use
some tooth pics.