Another goddamn mouse in the kitchen,
so I found a black snake slithering in the garden,
gave him a pep talk before I set him gently on the floor,
and encouraged him to hunt.
He disappeared somewhere in the wall,
and surprise! He was actually a she,
and she was very pregnant.
My kitchen was overrun with snakes.
I then purchased a red-winged kitchen hawk
and commanded her to launch off my leather glove
and fly above my stove
with her noble, piercing scream.
She’d grab the snakes on the white tiled floor
and under the sink
and behind the jars of flour and sugar
and once even found another goddamn mouse
and retire with her prize to the attic.
Hawk droppings everywhere,
and she kept biting and clawing me.
The only possible solution?
A pair of kitchen leopards,
slinking across the kitchen floor,
jumping on the countertops,
napping on the dining room table
with rhythmically swishing tails.