Evidence of a coup d'état
we've lost our constituency.
Mouse shit in the wholemeal flour;
black-balled from our residency.
We are in the habit though
of living here, of making home.
Not a hard decision then
to make this our infestation.
I set the traps and laid the curses
you borrowed the trowel and dug the graves.
With each back snapped
you turned the earth back
and said a word or two.
Mice! This is a threat:
at our house
you will be met
by the metal spring of death.
Yours with baited breath.