It’s odd how my life
has balanced on
some rat mischief-
floating around-
curing me previously,
gnawing at me the next.
Having nibbled
my fingertips clean,
they gnaw my toes.
The three blind mice
lend me their stick,
“It’s your cane,” they say.
I beat them away knowing
they will return either by
drip or thru the walls.
Notes:
A group of rats is called a mischief.
My cancer drugs where chimeric agents derived from rodent and human elements.
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