Thursday, November 8, 2007

Drunken mice

Comedy hour strikes .....

The mice had been out drinking.
Their tails wove in and out.
They staggered up the piping,
and fell off down the spout.
They reached the airing-cupboard
and nested in the sheets,
they peed upon the bedspreads,
on towels wiped their feets.
Then leaving several pellets
of shit upon shelves (upper)
they hiccuped, belched and farted
and went to look for supper,
for as you know when drinking,
though lager fills your belly,
it also makes you feel as though
you’d eat a docker’s welly!
They fancied Ruby Murray,
but nothing could they find,
for in a decent bathroom
a curry’s naught but wi-ind.
So gnashing sharp incisors
and scraping needled paws,
they set about a drunken search
to find that bedtime course.
And when I rose at seven,
and flicked electric power
to heat the flowing water
and give a nice hot shower,
I found the mice had feasted
behind the cupboard door.
They’d shredded paper wrappings
and dropped them on the floor:
they’d punctured all the toothpaste
and then to top their tope
they’d guzzled anti-frizz shampoo
and eaten half the soap.
Then finally, hung over,
they’d made themselves at home
and sprawling bloated fast asleep
were snoring shaving foam.

3 comments:

Mary Witzl said...

Brilliant, Sue. Absolutely brilliant.

The little sods have gotten into the cupboard where I keep my yeast, flour, and other bread-making materials, including my organic pumpkin and sunflower seeds. What burns me up is the fact that they cannot just nip in and take one or two seeds; no, they have to gnaw a hole in the plastic, pee and poop all over the seeds, then chew their way through a couple. They've also chewed through soap, yoga mats, matches (you just wonder WHY) and plenty of other things they couldn't possibly find tasty.

But the spiteful little things are so cute.

Brian said...

There were mice in the big shed at Dondingalong, that had a bit of a go at some of my stored books.
Traps baited with bacon served me well, as there were not all that many , but in the end I ceased the trap manoeuvre, because I unwittingly badly hurt and had to euthanase an Antechinus , a female with six young attached to her nipples. I have written elsewhere about that in A Tiny Tragedy

Bush rats were a pest when they chewed through the electrical cables to my big pump-- and I wrote about that as well. The electricity was off, so no fried rat, but I hope the pvc gave them the gutache.
There was a lot of home brew in the shed , but no mice were able to lift bottlecaps ( surprisingly ).
But I do remember the white plums that fell from my grandfather's wonderful plum tree and fermented, as it was always fun to watch drunken wasps lying on their backs and kicking their spindly legs in the air-- drunk on the fermented juice

Brian

Mary Witzl said...

I read your story about the Antechinus, Brian -- that was one of the very first things of yours that I found, as I remember, and it got me hooked.

A friend of ours in Japan who was a great animal lover finally bought a mousetrap, albeit reluctantly. Her house was badly infested, and she had tried all sorts of ways to get rid of them with no success. She really didn't want to get the mousetrap, but the thing that finally pushed her was finding that a few had eaten their way through one of her silk obis and two kimonos. A good kimono and obi cost as much as a cheap car, so you can imagine how she felt.