Rat-mate Poetry!

I was excited to get these poems from my old college roomie. I figured she would be a hater of mice (and their dirty ways as she was somewhat of a "neat-freak" and didn't seem to enjoy my half of the dorm room looking like a pig sty). Liking rats though? Who woulda thunk?!? I like the gratuitous use of "fuck." I am a big fan of that word (seriously). I am also most appreciative of the baby squirrel picture. I have never seen a baby squirrel. Most of our local squirrels are too "squirrely" to show their babies. Hell, I don't even know where they hide the peanuts we give them, tho' I did find one on top of my car engine once. I do love squirrels, but they aren't too bright. Anyway, here are the poems:

Chapter 1: Mice
Mice SUCK!
They make me say FUCK (a LOT).
Running on the counter top
Pooping as they go, they never stop.
Keeping all our food in plastic
I want to snap those mice with an elastic.
Cleaning up after them is enough to nauseate me
Obviously those nasty creatures hate me.
Why can’t they just stay away—don’t they have
Another place to play?
Now the season’s getting colder
Those damn things are getting bolder
Popping up every day
Squeaking right at me as if to say:
“Hey, can’t you throw some more crumbs our way?”
Mice suck. They make me say fuck. A lot.

Chapter 2: Rats
Now, rats are another story.
I had one in Kindergarten as a pet—named Lori.
Lori had a beau named Whiskers
And together they produced several litters.
We kept one, named her Amanda
Then we had three rats, and a
Hermit crab (but that’s another poem).
Anyway, have you ever seen a newborn rat?
I know what you’d have thought of that:
Naked! Wrinkly! Skinny! Squirmy! Blind!
Who could ever love one but one of their own kind?
And love them she did, that mother creature—
Ate several of them, like some horror double-feature.
What’s worse-looking than a baby rat?
Half-eaten baby rat limbs, devoid of all fat.
I guess I’m lucky that I had rats on purpose,
Rather than chasing them ‘round the kitchen surface.
But no more rodents for me, I say—
I’ll stick to cats (however lazy) any day!

Chapter 3: Squirrels
I watched my Rio on the sill
Watching what? I didn’t know, ‘till…
I saw a squirrel, schlepping sticks
To the corner of the window—was it just for kicks?
She worked all day, didn’t rest
And when I awoke, there was a nest!
A day went by, and then another
And then that squirrel became a mother!
Six tiny baby squirrels, seen through my window
Hoping that there’d be no wind blow
To knock the nest over and scatter those babies
Because heaven forbid—what if they had rabies?
Mama Squirrel was oblivious
But my two cats were quite lascivious
Keeping watch just in case
Those babies got into the house—it would be a race
To see which one would be devoured first
I hoped that wouldn’t happen, it would be the worst.
But Mama Squirrel caught on one day
And moved those baby squirrels away
I went to bed and they were there
But when I woke up the nest was bare.
--chiqui b (2009---original)