Battle with wildlife, part 6

[kozmikdave]

I could hear him pissing in the space between my ceiling and the upstairs floor,
waving his tiny penis in a lewd act of rebellion
as if giving me the finger.

Perhaps it was that our habitats overlapped and interleaved – a perfect fit -
him nocturnal, me diurnal – surely an opportunity
to coexist in ignorance.

I made a rough incision into his world, like picking a scab from a previous injury
only to find myself looking into the eyes of the innocent.
Innocent? Not bloody likely.

A trap was baited for days without a sniff or suggestion that he would acrobatically
waddle the plank and make a splash in pirate fashion -
playing possum is my guess.

Creatures of habit should never annoy the sleep deprived and vindictively inventive,
for we shall see the patterns in their actions and prevail -
no compromise necessary.

While he was out last night, I changed the locks and blocked the secret hatches,
then lay awake, waiting for his thumping gait, or silence
announcing he’s not coming home.

[David]

Dave, I must have missed parts 1 to 5, but this is really good. One thing I like, which I don't recall seeing before, is the pattern of the verses, with the receding line endings. It makes for a very satisfying read.

Great last verse, and a clincher of a last line and a half:

waiting for his thumping gait, or silence
announcing he’s not coming home.

I can't make up my mind whether you're referring to an actual animal - some kind of marsupial? That must be a fairly safe bet - or an errant son. The indicators seem to oscillate wildly. Which is it?

Excellent.

Cheers

David

[kozmikdave]

Ta David

Glad you liked this one. I posted it in fear and trepidation. The receding lines was quite accidental for the first verse. It satisfied a sense of something in me so I continued with it.

The title was a problem. I seem to have written quite a few poems in the past dealing with wildlife of various species, so this is the first actually numbered.

One of your guesses is correct - but which one? The answer is in the poem.

[kozmikdave]

Dammit, he picked the locks and stumbled in at 6 a.m. this morning.

[barrie]

if you call your missus 'my little possum', it'll be your father-in-law.

B.Humphries

[juliadebeauvoir]

My guess is a normal teenager. I am just glad that they are cute when they are born otherwise we would eat our young.

Perhaps it was that our habitats overlapped and interleaved – a perfect fit -
him nocturnal, me diurnal – surely an opportunity
to coexist in ignorance.

Another clue! My teenagers love to sleep in so that I don't actually get to see them during daylight hours. They don't leave the house at night though (as far as I know...better check the windows!)--strict rules here but never the less 'coexist in ignorance' can sum it up at times.

Either that you have a really bad animal control problem in your attic.

Cheers,
Kimberly

[Globus]

'playing possum' suggested to me it was a human pest.

Ace poem - the rhythmic structure is strong and the varying line length managed well. I particularly liked the sound of:

for we shall see the patterns in their actions and prevail

and

then lay awake, waiting for his thumping gait

I'm struggling to find useful crits tho' - perhaps S3 scans a bit too much like straight dialogue and there's a wee bit too much cliche. Having said that, 'picking a scab' to be 'looking into the eyes of the innocent' is a great, physical and creepy idea.

Could the penultimate line go better with 'a' silence?

Meh. I'm fiddling. It's good; cheers.

[kozmikdave]

It's good to be ambiguous. The pest is a possum, I'm afraid. It found a way into the space between the upstairs floor and the downstairs ceiling. So cute, but not generally how you think at 5 a.m. as it stomps through it's circuituos maze in its jackboots. All entry points not seem blocked, but it is a determined little critter.

Thank you all for your comments. I am encouraged to continue writing.

[juliadebeauvoir]

Possum...teenager...what's the difference?