Curate, connect, and discover
I'm not always sure what God's I worship
I'm not always sure of my own morals
I'm not always sure of my theories of the afterlife
But something I am sure of and always have been is my belief in mother earth
And my hatred of cruel glue traps
I know the mice are not meant to be here
If I were fast enough to catch them to release I would
But I know I am not
So if it must come to a trap I will use something that is fast
Because between a quick bullet to the brain execution or a long tortureous death of struggle and starvation
I think all of us would choose the first choice
Mind you this creature is dying for such a petty crime
Just trying to survive somewhere they don't even know they shouldn't be
When it's over I'll bury him
The mouse in my room that will soon be in a trap that I've set
And I'll feel bad for murdering something more innocent than my own kind
But I will feel better knowing he did not suffer
And that I return him to the earth from which he came
Become throwing a creature of earth
of flesh and bone once granted life
Into layers of plastic with the pollution bound for a graveyard of garbage
It feels so wrong
Even as a child I knew that
It goes against all nature and worse starves earth of her meal
It's take with no true give
I'll likely repeat this to deaf ears of family
When they find me digging a hole for a pest
If I had a choice I'd be buried with no coffin
But I know I don't
So all I can do is hope for the cheapest one
Made of the softest wood
Something easy to rot
I'd rather not keep mother earth waiting long for her meal
For now I'll give her back the small mouse that wandered away from her to my own den
And hope she sees his death not as unatural cruelty but as predator sharing prey
The way I'm sure mice are meant to die